Is There Anyone Out There?
by TaylorPaige24
Summary: Dying was easy for her. It was living that was hard. Angela Shepard had many allegations of being a whore, but she was more than that. She was much more. *Spin off*
1. Break In Time

**A/N: **So I'm going to try my hand at this. Some people asked for this so I'm going to try it. ;)

Thanks so very much to **you taryn at six**, for beta reading.

**Please note:** This is more than likely going to be moved to M rated. Probably within the next chapter or two. I'm going to be doing some extreme things with this. Sorry, I don't think some things that are going to happen will qualify as T rated anymore. I'll give a warning when I decide to do so.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the _Outsiders_. You all know who it belongs to.

* * *

><p><strong><em>December 22, 1967 <em>**

Some people think life sucks and then you die. That's just the easy part. They don't think about the hard stuff you have to go through to get to that part; to the dying part. Life is more complicated than that.

You got to go through life before you get the pleasure of dying. No one_ wants_ to die. People want to check off as many things off their bucket list as they can. They want to live before they die.

Sometimes, though, living is hard. Sometimes the life you're living is worse than dying.

Dying is just the easy part.

"Angel," he called. "Kid is crying!"

I sat up on my powder blue bed and looked around my room. The walls were pink. I'd covered them up the best I could with posters of bands I didn't like and cut outs of people from magazines I could care less about. The beautiful pink color I had picked out a few years ago barley showed anymore.

A girl my age _shouldn't_ have a pink room.

"Where is he?" I asked coming down the stairs.

Curly stood, disgruntled and with a baby in his arms. It surprised me it was in _his_ hands. Curly had only held him twice since he was born. He figured he'd catch a disease or something from him.

He stuck out a little body for me to take. "He stinks."

"Come here." I puffed out a face as I took him.

Jake Tyler. The soul I was _blessed_ with only a few months back. Some people say he looks like me. He has dark enough hair to say so. But if you look in his eyes, you can tell they don't belong to me. The blue color looked better on him.

I see things in those eyes. I see memories of nights I thought I'd never forget. I see happiness, ambition, and love. I wish I could see the eyes that made these again.

I rested him on the torn sofa and looked around the house I had lived my whole life in.

It was small. Momma bought it back when she was pregnant with Curly so she could get out of her mother in-law's basement. The brick on the outside had been graffiti by the neighborhood punks and the roof had more than a few leaks in it. Daddy always promised her a nicer one when they got the money, but that never happened. Since then, we just piled on in here and took over the damn place.

Momma wasn't much of a cleaner. This place had been a mess for as long as I could remember. The wallpaper plastered on the walls was ripping away revealing a nasty green color. The carpet was musty and old. The sofa I was sitting on was older than my mother and getting ready to fall through the floor. Clothes and trash were all over the floors, along with some old magazines from 1950. It smelled like rotten eggs hidden under an odor of cigarettes and fabric softener.

Yeah, Momma didn't like to clean.

"You need to put that baby to sleep!" she shouted at me.

I turned my head and looked straight into her cold eyes. "I will, Ginger."

"Well, Jason is coming over and I don't want no screaming baby running him off." She brushed her dark hair behind her shoulder and took off into the kitchen.

Jason was the guy she left Robert for. She married Robert when I was ten. I never knew much of my _real_ father. Tim informs me that he took off once Momma found out she was pregnant for a third time. Since then she drug every bastard in town to this fucking house. Robert was one of the few exceptions.

I liked Robert.

"I don't see why you bring him _here _anyway," I hollered her way.

"I _live_ here!" she snarled from the door frame. "I can do as _I_ please in my own home. I don't need my ungrateful children to tell me what to do."

I balled up my fist as I opened my mouth to say something I knew I'd get slapped for.

"I'm headed out," Tim announced, appearing from the stairs and putting an end to my plan.

I turned my head and looked. He was dressed in a black leather jacket he ripped off from Jimmy Higden in the tenth grade. His jeans were dirty, as they always where, and his hair was greased back to perfection.

He wasn't just going out with the guys. I'd seen him dressed this way before. He only dressed this sharp when he was trying to impress.

"To where?" I questioned.

He shrugged and slipped on his muddy boots. "Don't worry about it."

The door slammed shut without another word.

"Where's Curly?" Ginger slurred, peering out of the kitchen with a bottle of Jack Daniels in her good hand.

Jack Daniels was who she had her love affairs with. She kept bottles stashed away that she bought with what little pay she earned from waitressing at the local bar. What she couldn't buy, she made me steal from the market down the road. I'd gotten pretty good at it over the years. Even learned how to grab a pack of cigarettes before running.

I looked down at the giddy baby looking up at me. "Went out with Ponyboy about an hour ago."

"That Curtis boy?" she asked taking a big swig. "Ain't he the one with no parents?"

"Yes, Ginger," I barked angrily. "He's Danni's brother. You remember Danni, Mom?"

She tilted her head back and drowned her throat once more. Half the time she couldn't remember my name when she threw back a few. "That whore that's always hangin' round' ya? The one that don't say much?" She moaned once more before throwing the bottle back once again.

"Yes, Ginger."

The couch shifted as a body sat down beside me. I turned my head and looked down at the innocent baby looking up at me like I was God. I liked that look. He was the only one who'd show it to me.

"Angel," she spoke softly before starting to twirl my hair. "You know I love you."

I remained stationary, ignoring her affection.

The old couch groaned as she moved closer to me. "Come on, sweetie. You're my baby _girl_. You know that." Her long finger nails locked into my hair, brushing it.

I could smell the stench of the liquor as she talked. I tucked my hair behind my ear, away from her touch. "Yeah."

"Angel," she whined. "Honey, don't be so stubborn. It's not attractive on such a pretty girl like you." She rubbed her long fingernail on my cheek. "You're so pretty. You should smile more. Boys like it when a pretty girl smiles."

I rubbed my hand on the baby's soft hair. He smiled through his pacifier and kicked his feet up and down.

"He looks like you," she pointed out. "You look like me, too, whether you like it or not. You know some people mistake us for sisters sometimes."

No they don't.

She sneered as she took another gulp. "Guess good looks run in the family."

I studied the baby that looked straight at his grandma. "I think he looks like _him_."

I could tell she was rolling her eyes at me. Never once had she asked many questions about it. It seemed like it'd be the first thing out of a mother's mouth.

"No he don't," she snapped. "He looks like me and you. Why would you even think to say that?"

I bit my upper lip and shrugged. "I just see it."

She scooted off the couch and took another sip of her poison. "Better get him to sleep. You know how Jason feels about babies."

Yeah, I know how Jason feels about a lot of things.

* * *

><p>"Please stop crying!" I pleaded for the hundredth time.<p>

Tears ran down his rosy red cheeks as he let out another big cry.

"I've fed you, changed your dipper, and held you; what more do you want?" I screamed.

"Shut that damn baby up!" Ginger hollered from down the stairs. "Try giving him the bottle."

I slammed my fist on the nightstand. Jason would be up here soon to check on us if he kept up the crying. I'd done about all I could do. He was three months old. What could he possibly want that I haven't already done?

"You still got him up?" My bedroom door flew open as Curly stuck his head in. He dared not to get to close.

"What does it look like?" I growled from under my breath. "Is Tim not home yet?"

"Naw." He leaned against the door frame. "Don't think he will for a while."

It used to bother me how close Tim and Curly were. Sometimes it still does. I shove it away for the fact that they're boys and older than me. But sometimes, I just wished they'd listen to me.

I threw my body back on my bed and rested the screaming newborn on my chest.

Tim was the only member of this screwed up family who'd even change a dipper. Curly refused to touch him and Ginger only helps when she's either sober or feeling bad about something she'd done.

Robert helped for the first month. That is until Ginger found out and got him arrested for trespassing. Hadn't heard where he'd ended up, but something told me he wouldn't be coming around for a while, if at all.

Danni had her own life. She didn't want to sit around and play house with me. Darry would ring her neck if she showed up with him at her house anyway. That boy tries to act like someone's father more than a brother. He'd die for her, though. That's more than I can say for the two I got.

Tim, for some reason, has just taken a liking to Jake. I never thought I'd see it. I figured he'd jump up and move out as soon as he was born. Guess he just feels bad because the kid doesn't have a father to help raise him. He's certainly pointed that out enough.

I didn't need help raising _my_ baby.

I looked down at the peacefully sleeping life that laid on me. He loved me. If no one else did, I knew he did.

I eased myself up and put him into the wooden crib that Tim built for me back when he was at the Pin. At least something good came out of him being there.

Outside my window, I could see the dark streets we grew up on. There was the corner Tim, Curly, and I would play ball. The drug store I'd make nightly runs to. The bench I sat on and ate an ice cream cone and cried after I found out I was pregnant. A lot of memories are from this street. All too many.

Many of times I'd seen stuff happen on this same street that a young girl should never have to see. One night a homeless man stabbed one of the pharmacists closing up the drug store. I sat on the edge of this window and watched until the cops showed up to find the dead bloody body. I was ten when it happened. It wasn't the first nor the worst thing I'd seen happen.

Downstairs I could hear the two old crows begin to yell. He starts in about money. She yells back about having three kids and a grandchild to feed. He throws a few beer bottles, making them shatter all over the kitchen floor. Then the heat gets going.

I get this show played for me every night.

"It's my money, Jason!" she yelled. "What the hell happened to it?"

"I don't know woman!" he fought back. "How many fucking times I gotta' tell you I ain't touched it?"

"Don't lie to me, you bastard! I know you took it and spent it on that whore!"

I looked over my shoulder at the sleeping baby just a few feet away. Mom always made sure no one touched him. He was safe.

"Just shut your fucking mouth you piece of shit!"

I unlatched the lock on my window and stuck a foot out, taking one last look before guiding myself down to the fire escape.

* * *

><p>Wind blew crisp leaves across the jagged street. Bugs whizzed to the street's light that lit up the black road my boots clicked across. Droplets of rain fell from the roofs of stores and splashed down into the puddles that lied below.<p>

It was quiet on this street tonight.

I put my hands snug into my jacket pockets and tried to listen for the loudest noise out there, only finding nothing.

Cold chills ran down my body as the wind spoke to me again. A crunching sound was made as the heel of my boot smashed a lost leaf.

Time passed as I walked alone - until a building peered in front of my eyes.

The chitter chatter of people talking echoed through the allies and the music playing drew even the loneliness bastard in.

I placed my hand on the cold door knob and pulled, letting my ears enjoy the sound of life.

"Angel!" exclaimed a red head girl standing by the door. "Where have you been?" Her arms reached out to me and pulled me into her warm body.

"April!" I returned her sweet embrace before pulling back away.

She handed off her joint to the boy hovering closely beside her. "So, that baby been keeping you cooped up I see."

I watch the smoke run off the boy's lips as he enjoyed what was in her hand. Looking around, lots of people shared the same expression he had; an expression of not giving a fuck about... _anything_.

"Babe, you want?" The boy nudged her, holding the joint she'd given him.

Her light blue fingernails glided his away and snipped it tightly in-between her middle and pointer finger. Her eyes light up as they shared a giggle, then again after she took a whiff.

"Yeah," I muttered. "He's been a handful."

The dark smoke ran across her dark ruby lips and up to the ceiling to join the rest. "Ain't that the truth? Bein' a mommy must suck, huh?"

I licked my lips and watched as the bodies inside moved and passed along laughs and smiles. "You bet."

She leaned into the puffed out chest of the boy still staying close by, laughing in sequence with the others. Smiles never left their faces. Laughs slipped out every couple of seconds like they'd been living on cloud nine all their lives.

Couples sat high on hay barrels, kissing and rolling over with endless giggles. Smoke danced in the air with the music that played with a small radio placed in the very back of the room.

This was life. This was happiness. All these people...they didn't have to worry about putting a baby to sleep at night. They didn't have to worry about being embarrassed when eyes follow them when they have their child out in public. They didn't have to block out the yells at night just to be able to get a few hours of sleep.

They didn't have to be parents. They…they could live.

"Want a drink?"

I turned to the direction the stranger's voice came from. A cup was being held out to me as a young guy stood in front of me with a cheesy smile on his face.

I raised my eyebrows. "Who's offerin'?"

He smirked at my rude remark. "Who's receivin'?"

I studied him. His hair was layered with grease. His eyes were gray and dark. The shirt he was wearing was intended to show off the muscles he'd obviously worked hard to get, showing how hard he thought he was trying.

"Angela," I crossed my arms over my chest. "Angela Shepard."

He clicked his tongue as he looked me over. "Well, Ms. Shepard, do you want a drink?"

I gazed upon the cup he held out for me to take. Wouldn't have been the first time I'd taken a drink from a creep. Slowly, I reached out as he smoothly placed it into my hand, grinning as he did so.

"Thanks," I mumbled before taking a drink.

"So," he went on. "What brings you here?"

I let the liquid run down my throat. "What brings _you_? Ain't seen you around here before."

"I travel a lot." He winked. "Thought this town would be a good place to meet some new people."

I took another sip and slightly rotated my heel for me to turn away. "Well, hope you meet some."

"Wait!" he called after me.

I scoffed but stopped.

"Sorry." He chuckled. "I should have been more kind. You wanna...you wanna_ talk_?"

I put a hand up to hide my sneer slipping out. "Since when do guys like to _talk_?"

"Since when do they don't?"

_Smooth_.

"Okay, then. Lead the way."

* * *

><p>"Sounds rough," he spoke generally, taking a puff of his cigarette. "So how old is he?"<p>

"Three months," I responded.

Time passed faster than I had thought. Hours had gone by and here I sat; still with this guy who just didn't know when to give up, listening to me go on about my many _Mommy_ troubles.

The gentleness in his voice...the genuine tone he took to me; it wasn't one I'd received in a long time. He seemed...well he seemed to care. Not the fake type of care most guys tried to pass for liable, but something different; something I couldn't quite put a finger on.

"You don't really care how old my kid is, do you?" I accused. "You can just go ahead and skip that part. I really don't need your pity."

"Doll," he spoke softly. "Why so quick to judge? You don't know me. What makes you think that I don't care about your baby boy? What makes you think I don't care about _you_?"

"Past experience and the fact that you_ don't_ know me."

He scooted closer to me. "Well, doll face, guess it's time for a change in scenery and a little bit of show and tell."

"You know just what to say, don't cha?"

"You tell me."

I looked to the side, hiding my smile. I brushed the curls out of my face. "What's your name anyway, Mr. Smooth?"

His smile was wide, beautiful. "Jeff; my name's Jeff, doll face."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So whatcha think? I know not much said in this, but trust me, this is just the beginning.


	2. Our Souls To Learn

**A/N: **Thanks so very much for the feedback from the last chapter!

So, I don't think this chapter would qualify as T rated. In fact, I'm pretty darn sure it doesn't. It's nothing _too_ graphic, but more graphic than I've done before. I told you guys I'd warn you before I change the rating, so this is your warning. I'll change the rating tomorrow, so don't like report me or nothin'. ;)

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I still don't own anything.

**Warning: **Sex and minor mention of drugs.

As always, thank you to **you taryn at six, **for the amazing work she's done betaing.

* * *

><p><strong><em>January 8th, 1967<em>**

The static buzzes louder than any bug on the planet. Loud curse words are shouted and, with high hopes of it going to solve the problem, angry thuds are heard from his fist pounding the machine.

The woman on the sofa sits quietly, a cigarette in her hand and smoke rising up from it. She had tried telling him _her _way of fixing it, but that was the last damn thing he wanted to hear—as it was for everyone else in the room.

"Fucking cheap shit!" Tim swears as he kicks the stand. "Picked the fucking worst night in the world to fuck up."

"Goddamnit!" Jason hisses, jerking away from the electric socket.

Ginger smirks from her position. "Told ya to turn the T.V. off first."

His eyes alone would have sent me running for the door.

Jason has this look about him. It's not a scary, demented type of look. Just one that says: "shut-the-fuck-up-or-I-will-fuck-you-up". His eyes just have this way of showing that he isn't bluffin' either.

She lets out a dragging sigh and puts what is left of her cigarette out in the ash tray.

"Ma, you think I could go out tonight? I'll put Jake to sleep so you ain't got to do nothin' but listen for him."

Curly's head shoots up. "Didn't you go out last night and the night before that?"

Some people think Curly is just Tim's wing man and that he doesn't have any sense of his own. I won't argue the fact that he still isn't a rocket scientist, but Curly has sense. Hell, he's got a pretty good amount of it.

"Thanks for that, Captain Obvious," I snap.

He rolls his eyes and goes back to being the punching bag for the words Tim and Jason spew at him.

"Why _are_ ya' goin' out so much?" her voice grumbles. She takes another stick from the box and flips Jason's lighter open. "Got a boyfriend or somethin'?"

I open my mouth, ready to shit her when someone speaks for me. "Girl ain't got no boyfrien'," he growls with a pen stuck in his mouth. "She better fuckin' not."

Jason has this act he likes to play. You could call it the step-daddy-act, but it goes something like: _You got pregnant once; don't fuckin' do it again! I catch you whoring around an' I'll beat your ass. I ain't your daddy and I sure ain't no fuckin' grandpa. Don't drag another fuckin' kid in my house._

"I don't," I reassure them both. "Just been makin' new friends."

Jason didn't control my response. Jason doesn't control anything I did, frankly. The response just came from the fact that Jeff isn't my _boyfriend_, and the fact that I'm not telling this woman _what_ I do.

"The game's almost fuckin' over now!" Tim kicks the stand again. "Piece of shit!"

"Can I go?" I ask at a lower tone.

She straddles up off the couch and limps over to my seat across from her, taking the baby from my arms. "Go. Don't make a habit of it now. I ain't raisin' no more babies."

I leap from the sofa and give her a five-year-old's smile. "Thanks, Momma!"

"Yeah, yeah."

* * *

><p>Clothes fly in every direction. The drawers to my dresser are pulled, bras and underwear sticking out. The clicking noise of hangers banging together is loud, making my ears ring.<p>

Pulling out a fitted black skirt and a white top, I slip out of the lounge wear I'm wearing. Underneath my outfit is the laciest underwear I own. My top matches the color of them, and has an easy hook in the back.

I had only worn this little outfit a couple of times. It isn't anything real fancy. Guys never notice how _fancy_ any girl looks in her underwear. They only see what they _want_ to see.

Jeff has taken me out a few times in the past week. He likes it when I get all dolled up so he can _show me off_. He has a charm about him that makes me melt in his arms.

We talk. He has such a great mind. He can just go on and on and still keep my interest. I told him I thought he should write a novel or something; I'm sure people would buy it.

He's pretty smart about other things, too. He gambles and he told me about his trick on how to do math when you do it.

I wish I could think like he does.

"Since when do you call Ma 'Momma'?"

"Damnit Curly!" I snarl at him. "Do ya' ever knock?"

He leans against the door frame, hands crossed over his chest. "Where ya' headin' this fine evening?"

"That's your business because...?"

"Guess it ain't, but it might be Tim's." A sly smile appears across his face.

I grind my teeth together. "I'm goin' out with _friends_. I already told you that."

"Friends? As in more than one?"

"I didn't stutter." I plop down and get my compact out to start applying make-up.

He still stands strong from his position at the door. "You get knocked up again and Jason's gonna kick your ass."

"Fuck, Curly!" I throw the compact on the floor. "I ain't doin' nothin'. It wouldn't be your business if I did or Tim's for that matter! So back off."

I grab my eyeliner and ignore the fact that he's still standing there.

"Mighty defensive for someone who's just goin' out with_ friends_."

I bite my tongue and act like I don't hear him.

"Well?"

I throw the pen down on the dresser and grab my purse from the floor. "Last time I checked, you weren't my daddy; so why don't you mind your own fucking business, jackass."

My shoulder blade cops him in the chest as I angrily make my way out of my room and down the stairs.

"Don't do nothin' stupid, Ang!"

I'm _not_ stupid.

* * *

><p>The music is dull. It's drowned out by the hoops and laughter of the people inside. Each one coming here to get their fix of whatever it is that takes them away from the reality of their lives.<p>

They're all different here. Each and every damn one of them.

Take April: Family money, dad's a political figure, mom's a housewife with homemade cookies on the counter every day, and brother's married to a model and slowly following in his old man's footsteps. From the outside it sounds like she has everything set up for her to become a perfect cookie-cutter daughter making her parents glow with pride and joy. They'd shit their pants if they saw their prodigy sitting over there, a joint in one hand, whisky in the other, and so buzzed out of her fucking mind she doesn't even know what planet she's on.

Then you got people like Mike, who lived on the streets most of his life. Beaten bloody by his father and disowned by his mother. Learned his ways from his big bro, who is currently in the state pin for murdering his dealer. Isn't his fault the opportunity of using fell into his lap. It was his environment. He'd stumble in for a few laughs and beers, but halfway through the night, he'd slip away into the back ally with the others and load up on his drug of choice. He'd come back through a whole different person, so far gone from reality that it seems damn near impossible for him to come back down.

I lean a little over on Jeff. He wraps his arm around my waist. "Babe, Jimmy's going to take us back."

He grabs my hand and leads me behind the tall, lean guy that is taking us to the room we'd spent quite a while in.

People look as we pass by. They aren't like the people at Buck's. They're so far gone, you could be on fire and they wouldn't even fucking notice.

The door in front of us opens. A couple of guys are sitting around and a table is placed in front of them.

The buff one winks at Jeff as he gently guides me over to an open seat.

Jimmy closes the door behind him and locks it with a key. The key, so I've been told, isn't to keep the _unworthy_ out. You ask, you got money, you get. No questions really asked. It's used as a security tool.

Addicts swarm the streets around this place like rats, trying to sell their pity story for just a pinch of powder. It's the aggressive ones the keys are for.

Cops come here now and again. Jimmy says the key slows them down enough for him to gather what he can and either hide it or get the fuck out. Hiding is the first priority.

There's a girl in the room. She sits under her hands like she's fucking scared to move, and her eyes dart back and forth like at any moment someone's going to lung at her.

I've seen her before. She goes to my school. Quiet girl. Pretty in the face but weighs about eighty pounds and has less boobs than Curly does. She only wears sweaters, even in the summer. You can vaguely make out the dark bruises under her sleeves from where she's stuck herself. She isn't hiding anything from anyone but herself.

Buff guy coughs a few times as blood runs from his nose. Quickly, he grabs a rag that's lying nearby and swears about how that's been happening a lot lately.

Jeff talks it up with the twitchy guy beside him. The twitchy guy goes on about this girl he just got with. "Man, she musta' been bigger than a fuckin' cow!"

Both guys laugh. "Musta' been on top then," Jeff comments.

Twitchy guy slaps his knee. "Made a nice cushion for sure!"

Jeff turns and elbows me as he chuckles.

"Why'd you hook up with her in the first place?" I question.

Twitchy looks at me like it was the stupidest question anyone could ask. "Why'd ya' think?"

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Cuz' your insecure of your small dick."

The chair he was sitting in squeaks as he pushes himself up out of it and towers over me. "Jeff, you better tell your gal she better watch her fucking mouth before she says something that will make me _angry_."

Jeff's eyes give me a stern look. "Shut it," he warns through gritted teeth.

I look up at the stick towering over me. He must weigh less than the girl sitting in the corner. His eyes haven't stopped twitching since we got in here and his hair was clumped together showing large bald spots from where he was slowly losing his hair.

I don't say anything, allowing him to take a seat.

"Better teach your gal where her place is, Jeff." He leans back in his chair like he's proud of the deed he's done. "Before someone else does."

"You think I'm scared of you? My boobs weigh more than you-"

A stinging slap is fired to my thigh. Everything freezes. I can feel everyone's eye look at me now for the first time. None of them saying anything about just what happened. Just some small chuckles.

I can hear Twitchy sneer with pride. I can feel the stinging pain shoot up my leg and my mouth immediately closes as the fire burns my leg.

"Shut the_ fuck_ up."

My eyes glare from him to the fresh red hand print he's just left.

* * *

><p>He's running after me. I can hear his footsteps as he tries to catch up to me.<p>

I'm surprised he left so soon. They didn't even break out the goods yet.

I keep walking, faster than before, like I can't hear.

"Doll face!" he shouts. "Hold up!"

"Fuck off!"

An arm grabs my shoulder, making my feet stop. He doesn't say anything for a minute, trying to catch his breath. I can smell the liquor he's drowned and the smoke on his clothes.

"Doll face...I..." he pants, unable to get a word out. "Come on, now."

"You smacked me!" I call him out, spinning around to face him. "In front of everyone! Do you know how embarrassing that was?"

Tears escape from my eyes. I don't quite know why I'm crying—whether it's from the humiliation of getting smacked or from the actually deed. I don't why I'm still _standing_ here.

I turn my head so he won't see the water works. His pity is the_ last_ thing I want.

"Doll face," he coos. "Look at me."

I don't move.

He takes his index finger and places it under me chin, slowly turning my head to where it's face-to-face with him. He looks into my watery, brown eyes and smiles a sympathetic smile.

He combs my hair again. His touch soothing and soft. "You're beautiful."

"You _smacked_ me," my voice comes out weak and tired.

"Shh," he soothes, brushing my long locks. "Don't cry." He cups my face in his hands. His thumbs brush each tear out of the way. "You are _so_ beautiful."

Beautiful. I've heard that word before. It's an easy one to say. Everyone says it whether you really are or not. You could be the ugliest girl in the world, but that don't stop any guy from using that word to get what _he_ wants.

_Beautiful—you are beautiful._

"Jeff—"

"Shh," he says again. "There's no need for words, babe. You know you mean the world to me. I'd never do _anything_ to hurt you. You know that."

The warmth of his presence makes chills on my arms and legs. His words are soft and soothing. His touch is sensor and nurturing. His eyes are bright and they invite me in, telling me to trust him.

"Jeff, I don't—"

"Doll face, don't be this way. I'm _crazy_ about you. You know that. I didn't even mean to do it. It just happened. You know I get angry when I've had too much to drink. It's not like your old man ain't ever hit you worse than that anyway. Heck, even your brothers."

I look at him, unsure of how to respond. He's still smiling at me. His voice says he's sorry, and he does have a point. Tim gave me a black eye before and Jason's never hesitated to fire the belt down. What's a little smack?

My lips press against his lightly. I don't why I'm kissing him; I don't know why I'm letting his hand creep down my back and onto my butt. He's sorry. He said he was. He is.

I pull away, leaving him with the same smirk-smile he's had on this whole time.

I push my body up against his as he takes hold of me. "Wanna make it up to me?"

* * *

><p>"You okay?"<p>

He's asked that five times now. Each time I nod and make a moan or groan showing him that I'm still interested, because I _am_.

I'm on my back. He's thrusting himself into me like his life depends on it. I can smell the smoke from the pot smokers that linger around outside and I wonder if I smell the same way.

His gasps for air make me do the same. I can see the ceiling that's overhead. I've been here more than once. This ceiling and I have gotten pretty damn friendly in my life time.

I've counted the number of squares one-hundred and forty fucking times. One has a stain that hides the border of the ones beside it, so I count it as two. Sometimes I think three, but that's only when I'm bored out of my mind and things seem to be taking longer than normal.

"Oh, God!"

I close my eyes, not wanting to see the ceiling tonight. I close my eyes so I can feel his weight on top of me, feel himself hard inside me, punching my insides.

"Jeff," I moan out.

Jeff's different than most guys. Jeff makes me feel it. Most guys, small or big, ain't doing what he's doing. It's the thrill of the hunt—this part. It says:_ Hey, you're pretty fuckable material; let's go again_. Or: _Fuck this shit; I ain't faking for this pussy._

After that, you get the acting part every woman wants: _Oh God! Oh yes baby, more! _When really you are so over this by now that you just want him to get the fuck off of you so you can pick up what's left of your dignity off the floor.

Then there's my favorite: _Oh God baby! Yes! Yes, yes, yes! _Then you let out a big sigh. Usually if the bastard's smart enough, he'll get the hint that you've gotten what every guys wants his mate to get, and he'll feel proud and get off.

"Jeff!"

This isn't faking. The screams I'm gasping for isn't me going for the Oscars.

I grab the sheets under us and scream as the climax is coming.

Bangs come from next door and a girl screams. I shudder. Jeff laughs at that and then goes back to pushing himself into me harder.

I bend my back and let out a screeching moan. "Ah, God!"

Top reached.

He groans like a pig that's just finished eating. He holds his breath and I let out heaves of air while the world around us stops moving.

I imagine everyone in this still world seeing us the way we are. My arms laid out with his hands holding me down, the sweat dripping from his forehead, the dirty covered sheets that have slipped down to my feet, his bald, naked ass, and my legs spread wide open with him inside of me.

Then the second hand moves and everything comes crashing down. He falls on top of me like he's been shot dead.

I let him lie this way as I catch my breath and come back down.

I see the people in the world looking at us again. Eyes judging me this time. A girl lying on her back, a guy she's been with for a couple of weeks, and his shriveling dick inside of her.

I think about what I did and debate whether it was wrong or not. Maybe I should have waited longer like those people in all those love stories. Maybe I shouldn't have come in here with him. Maybe I should have left while I had the chance. Maybe I shouldn't have told him everything was okay.

Jeff rolls off of me and onto his side. He lets out a deep sigh and then puts his arm around me. He kisses my shoulder and neck, whispering how good that was and how he's never been with anyone like me.

And then the feeling hits me.

I feel different. I don't feel like I normally do after this. I don't feel like I shouldn't have done this. I don't want to run into a hot shower and wash everything off of me. I want him to keep kissing me that way he is...and I want to do it again.

Then it hits me. The feeling he's left me with is one I haven't gotten in twelve months. He's given me what no other guy has given me in twelve fucking months; twelve very long months.

And it feels great.

"Jeff," I call out.

"Doll face?"

I smile wide. A wide smile of happiness and excitement for the future. A smile for the fact that I say: "I love you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So nothing too graphic. But like I said, I'm still changing the rating tomorrow. It's best to do it now anyway.

Thanks so very much for reading! :)


	3. West In Flames

**A/N: **Thanks for the feedback from the last chapter. I wish I could have replied and thanked each one of you personally, but my schedule is so messed up at the moment, but thank you all very much.

Today my freedom ended after the shortest summer I have had my whole life. I feel like crawling in a hole now.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the _Outsiders_.

As always thanks so very much to the talented **you taryn at six, **for beta reading.

* * *

><p><strong><em>January 25, 1967<em>**

"Say, momma," I coo to the giddy baby lying in front of me. "Say momma, Jake!"

"He ain't gonna' fuckin' say it," Tim growls from the wooden rocker across the room.

He's playing with one of Jake's toys and trying to act like he's doing something important when, really, he has nothing better to do tonight than sit here with me.

It's the first night in a while he's been home. He's been going to Buck's every night. Curly says he has no idea what for, but I know it's a girl. Tim's only this secretive about where he's going when a girl is involved.

Feel sorry for the poor girl. He'll leave her on her ass just like the rest of them.

"What makes you think he won't?" I ask.

He looks up from the toy and raises his eyebrows. "He's fuckin' four months old."

I wrinkle my face up. "So? He's smart. Don't cuss in front of him either." I look back down at the baby and smile. "I don't want him picking up on any habits of _yours_."

He sneers. "Says the sailor herself."

The baby garbles and drool runs down his chin. The black fuzz he once grew on his head has turned into a full bush of hair. Soon enough it'll have to be cut to keep it from getting in his eyes.

"Why are you home tonight anyway?" I pop up.

He shrugs and crosses his legs. "Why are you? Thought you'd be out with your new _friends_."

_Fuck Curly. _

"You not believe that's where I go?"

"Ain't none of my business," he says in a low tone. "Jus' as long as you don't do nothin' stupid."

"That's your job." I wink.

"Smart ass," he mumbles as he gets up. "Gonna go crash." He comes over and picks up the baby off the bed.

I peer up at him. "Why you turnin' in so early?"

He bounces the baby up and down and positions him just under his chin. "Got shit to do 'morrow." He lands a soft kiss on Jake's head and hands him back to me. "Might wanna' change him by the way."

He winks and walks out the door.

"Thanks a lot," I mutter.

Jake coos and kicks his feet up to his face.

I smile. "He loves ya'. 'Member that."

* * *

><p>"Ugh!" I shout and slam the door shut.<p>

There isn't even a piece of bread in this house. Ginger has been on one of her kicks this past week and I hadn't seen or heard from Jason in a few days. Tim and Curly usually grab takeout or something, but between the five of us, no one can get to the store.

I brush my hair out of my face and pick up one of the empty bottles off the table, grabbing the trashcan with my other hand.

Ginger gets in this state sometimes. It's been this way since I was a kid, so it isn't a shocker that she's been sleeping for twenty-two hours. Tim says it has something to do with the pills her doctor gave her when our father left. Ginger was pregnant with me at the time and not in her mind, so her daddy sent her to some fancy doctor.

She's been on those pills since then. Sometimes she goes off when she feels okay and then sometimes, like this week, we don't have the money to fill them.

I sweep off the last bit off clutter off the table and into the trash can.

_Knock, Knock._

"Ang, get the door!" Curly hollers from the couch.

"Can't you? I'm busy?" I yell back.

Silence.

Another bang comes from the door as the person outside gets impatient.

I throw the trash can on the floor and march to the door; Curly was sprawled out on the sofa with a beer in his hand.

"Fat ass," I sputter.

He smirks, not taking an eye off the static T.V. screen.

I reach out and open the door, revealing a grinning blonde standing on the porch with a plate of food in her hands.

"Danni?"

"Hey, Ang," she greets, taking a step forward and into the house.

I watch as she walks into the living room and says hello to Curly, who does nothing but grunt and prop his feet up.

The house is trashed more than it normally is. Dirty plates from last week are on the coffee table, and there's a stench of a pizza box rotting somewhere. It wasn't in a state fit for friends to come over.

Danni turns back and looks at me with the same small smile on her face, not looking around and judging the mess around us.

"Whatcha' doin' here, Dan?" I press her.

She throws a piece of hair out of her face. "Haven't seen you in a while. Thought I'd come by and make sure these guys haven't killed you yet." She motions to Curly.

I grumble and eye Curly. "Nah, I'm still alive." I turn my attention to the plate of food she's clinging too. "What's that?"

She looks down and unwraps the brown covered treats. "Got bored and made these a little while ago. Thought I'd bring them over here and we could talk. Just don't tell Soda."

I hear Curly sniff from were I'm standing. "Just don't tell_ Curly_."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe she said that to her!"<p>

"It was really somethin'. No one expected it to happen either. My whole English class was cutting up so much the teacher gave us all detention." She stops for a moment as Curly yells at the spots game on T.V. "I miss you at that place, ya know."

I slump down in my seat and pick at the brownie crumbs on my plate.

It's pitch black outside now. There's an argument coming from our neighbor and his guest, and once in a while you hear something break. A few more hours and those harsh words will become moans and groans from the other end of the house.

Danni takes a sip of milk and looks down at the floor. "Ever think about coming back?"

I shrug and put another brownie in my mouth. "I don't think so, Dan."

She takes in a deep sigh and peers up at me. "It won't be so bad this time. Those girls have probably-"

"No," I calmly ordered her. "I'm not going back. End of story."

She doesn't say anything. Her hand moves up to her mouth and she begins to nervously bite her pretty, pink nails. Thirteen years and she still can't break it.

"I met someone," I inform her. "We're getting pretty serious."

This catches her attention. "Oh, do I know him?"

"Probably not. He's new in town," I say. "I think you'd like him, though. He's sweet, Dan."

Her eyebrows go up. "_Sweet?_"

"Yeah, he really is," I say a bit more aggressive.

"Go on." She speaks like a teacher talking to a student. Like I'm confessing to stealing crayons or something.

I go on. "His name is Jeff. I met him at the warehouse about a month ago. He's smart, Dan, and he really is sweet. He brought me flowers yesterday." I point to the vase on the counter and she looks. "We haven't really fought yet either. He's good; I can tell."

She continues to study the flowers. They're beautiful just sitting up there. Red roses. I told him a few weeks ago they're my favorite.

"Why'd he bring 'em?" she asks at a near mumble.

I make a face at her even though she's not looking. "He just did, ya know, out of the blue."

It's silent for a while. I wonder what she's thinking about. I can hear her breathing. It's louder than normal. She just keeps eyeing the flowers and listening to Barney break another lamp next door.

"Dan, you okay?"

She snaps from her state to turn back and smile at me. "Yeah, I'm happy for you. I'll have to meet him sometime."

I grin, happy of her approval. "You'll like him, Dan. I'm sure of it."

* * *

><p>I can hear the crickets outside my window. They gather there and play a symphony every night for me. Tim always gets angry when they come around and smashes them all, but I like them. It's magical to me how such tiny things can make that noise, to make that beautiful music.<p>

Danni's gone; she has been for some time. Curly retired to his bedroom for the rest of the night. I'm still up because I don't want to sleep. I want to listen to the symphony that I have a front row seat to.

Jake's snoring roars from across the room. It's a reassuring noise to hear. I wake up some nights just to listen for it.

_Tap, tap_.

"Angel!"

My head rotates to the window where a small brown haired girl is kneeling. "Jane?"

She huffs and taps on the window again with her small fist. "Can you let me in? It's freezing out here."

I hesitate for a moment, and then I rush over and unlatch the lock, allowing her to come inside.

She pulls her way into my room and looks around for a moment, unsure of where exactly she is.

She rubs her hands together and tries to warm herself. "Damn it's cold!"

Her face is shown to me. Her green eyes are like tiny dots you see on cartoon characters. Her skin is white, and her clothes are soaked and barley hanging onto her frail body.

"What's going on? You want dry clothes?" I start to walk over to the closet door.

She nods heavily and sits on my bed, pulling her wet hair into a ponytail. "You mind if I...crash here tonight? Cops are all over the streets, and Mike left me to find my own way home."

I come out of the closet with Tim's old sweat suit in hand and look over at the peacefully sleeping baby. It's not the first time she's come here like this. It's not the first time _anyone's_ come over like this. Sometimes it's the quickest place they can make it to.

I've sure done it to her a few times. "I-I suppose."

She snatches the sweat suit from me. "You're a life saver."

Her top is slipped off her body, and I count every rib that's showing on her bruised white skin.

She unhooks her bra slowly and tosses it on the floor next to her shirt.

I go over and retrieve the wet clothing from the floor.

"Thanks again, Ang."

I peer up at her round breasts staring me in the face. Each one a perfect size and shape. They're bigger than mine and probably most of the girls our age. They are unproportional to the rest of her body, but they are the things that stand out to every guy she meets.

The button to her skirt snaps and she wiggles out of it. "You really don't have to do this, ya know?"

I watch as she slides her underwear down to meet her skirt, revealing her lower half. "It's not a big deal. You...you uh, want some dry underwear?"

She giggles and pulls the sweatpants up. "Nah, I go commando at night. It's better for...you know, _it_."

I pick the rest of her clothes off the floor and throw them in the hamper by the door.

Jake hasn't moved. His snoring is still at a consistent pace and I think he'll be okay if she stays. He'll stay asleep for a few more hours and maybe tonight I'll have someone to help me rock him back to sleep.

She's on my bed now. She's on her side and smoking a cigarette, quietly telling me a story about one time when the cops got her. She tells me they hurt her with the handcuffs and when they threw her in the car she bumped her head and got blood all over her mother's new dress.

I drag my feet over to where she's laying. She's still talking, not to me this time, but just to the air, the crickets, to anything that will stay and hear her.

Her make-up is running all over her face; her flawless face. The face that has no zits, no scars, but is ridden with sadness.

I kneel in front of her. She still continues to talk, but her eyes are looking at me this time. They're glossy and the green color makes them look like gems.

I brush some of her brown hair out of her face and take the cigarette from her and put it into my own mouth. I can faintly taste the dark red lipstick she's left on it.

"Lay down," she instructs, her face blank.

I follow her command and put the stick out to lie beside her where my face is looking at her back.

Her full back is showing. Tim's sweatpants are riding below her hips revealing the tip of her crack. The top is up high and I can see her spine.

It looks so big compared to the rest of her, even her boobs. It looks like it's going to pop right out of her back and fall bloody in front of my face.

Gently, I rub my pointer finger down it, starting at the very top.

She's still talking, only at a mumble now and I can't make out the words anymore. I don't think she wants me to hear. I don't think she can stop.

Her skin is soft. It's cold and feels fragile, so I try and be even gentler as I continue to touch her.

"Angela," she calls softly.

"Jane."

She turns around on her other side. Her eyes stare at me again. "What are you thinking about?"

Her breath blows on me. It smells like alcohol and pizza and cigarettes. It smells disgusting, but I want to breathe it in. I want it to be inside of me.

"I have a boyfriend," I say quietly.

Her tiny fingers touch my face. She runs them over every inch and then lets out a small sigh. "He's not here, Angela. It's just you and me. No one else but that sleeping baby over there. No one else."

From the corner of my eye I can see a fresh bruise on her hip. It's turning even more purple as we lay here.

My hand goes over to rest on it and she moans.

"Does it hurt?"

She closes her eyes. "Not there."

I move my hand all over her back, humming to her as she starts to drift off.

"I'm scared," she shivers.

"I'm here," I sooth her.

Her eyes click open, staring at me without blinking. "Show me."

Slowly, my body moves. I don't feel like I'm moving it. It feels like I'm on a machine and it's pushing me to her, like _she's_ pulling me to her.

My lips touch hers and I feel dizzy. I feel like she has given me whatever she's taken and put it all in me. I feel like I'm lying on a cloud and she's some sort of angel - a beautiful angel.

"I'm sorry," she speaks slowly.

"Don't be," I breathe into her. I say it like I'm sincere, even though I'm not and I want her to shut up. I want her to keep quiet so I won't hear her sad voice.

She's crying now. Her hand is on my breast, and she's crying. I feel her body shake and I let my fingers tear into her back. I want her to stop. I want her to be quiet.

"It's okay," I keep saying it, even though I have no right to. I just don't want her to be upset. I want her to kiss me. I want to show her I'm here for her anyway she wants.

"You're a good friend," she breathes out. "You're a good person. You care about me...about people."

My tongue goes back to wrestling with hers. She's rubbing my back now and still managing to get some words out. I try and ignore her sobs and show her I'm here - she's okay.

"I love you, Angela. Jeff's a lucky man."

I break free once I hear the sound of his name. Jeff. I have Jeff. Jeff wouldn't cheat on me. Jeff wouldn't do anything like this to me.

I sit up and rub my head. Everything's coming down now and the room's spinning. I feel like throwing up all over her body and telling her to get out. I feel like shoving my fist into her face and telling her to be quiet and stop crying like a fucking baby.

"What's wrong?" she comes to and asks.

"I-I just..." I swallow hard. "Jeff's my boyfriend."

"Mike's mine." She's angry now. Her words are harsh and her sadness has disappeared.

"He good to you?"

"Yes."

"He ever hit you?"

"Yes."

"Did it hurt?"

"Yes."

"Why are you still with him?"

Her hand touches my back. I think she might be going for my neck to jerk me down. "I_ love_ him. He loves me. No guy is perfect. They all hurt. I love him enough to look past it."

"But how can you-"

Her hand tightens around the back of my neck. She's telling me to shut my mouth because she's drunk and high and can't think straight anyway. She wants me under her. She doesn't want to hear me speak either.

"You love him?"

"Yes." I wince.

She lets go and her hand makes a loud sound as it hits the bed. "Good. He's a good guy. Don't screw it up."

She's lying down again and lighting another cigarette. I can smell the smoke and can hear her scratch herself.

_Jeff's a good guy. _

I look over my shoulder at her. "You're a good person, too. You really are."

She blows her cigarette towards my still open window. "I know. Come over here."

I do as she says. Her voice is lower, less harsh. The drugs she has running through her veins is slowly starting to wear off and she's in a state of panic for wanting more.

I go back to the place where I started from and wait.

She puts the rest of her weed out in the ash tray and then turns back to where she's facing me again.

She pushes herself to me again, her lips on mine this time. I can taste the lipstick again and it's making me sick to my stomach.

"Take care of Jeff. You be his girl. You be the best damn girl you can be."

"I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

She pulls away from me. Her eyes look dead now. She's taking long blinks and trying to stay awake. "You...you better. Us girls have to be...be good to our men. Be...be good to your man."

"I will," I promise again.

She lets her eyes close completely and reaches over and grabs my hair. "Go to sleep."

She's gone now. Her snores begin to battle with Jake's for who's the loudest.

I lay here and stare at her. Her beautiful face, her skin that's sucked onto her bones, her many bruises she has on her. They show just how hard she's tried. Her battle wounds.

"I promise," I say again. "I promise."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Sorry if it's all over the place. I tried to calm it down.

Thoughts about the ending? Thank you for taking some time to read. :)


	4. Misunderstood

**A/N: **I'm very nervous/excited about this chapter.

Anyway, I wanted to clear something up about the time line. LTWYL started in March. So keep that in mind when you're reading. It becomes very important in the next chapters and kinda this one. ;)

Thanks so very much to, **you taryn at six, **for beta reading.

**Warning: **Drug use

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the _Outsiders_.

* * *

><p><strong>February 9, 1967<strong>

"Doll face, you done yet? I wanna get there sometime today," he yells up the stairs.

"I'll be down in a minute!" I call back.

Tonight there's a full moon. The streets are lit up and every partying trash is looking for something to get into, whether it's easy or not.

Jeff says it'll be good for me to get out tonight. He says he has a surprise for me and it'll make all the stress go away. He spoke to my mother and got her to agree to babysit so he can take me. He says he'll make it worth it.

"Ready to go?" I smile and walk down the stairway as he looks me up and down.

His tongue rolls back in his mouth. "Well, love, don't you look nice?"

I sneer and slip on my jacket. "Don't I always?"

The front door slams and an angry Tim comes rushing inside. He throws his jacket on the sofa. He's been out for only half an hour and was not expected to be home anytime soon.

"Tim?" I call to get his attention.

He looks up at me. His eyes are raging and his upper lip is slightly bleeding.

He takes a minute and looks at the guy standing beside me. "Who's he?"

Jeff smirks proudly and walks down to him, hand held out. "Jeff. I take it you must be the Tim I've been hearing lots about."

Tim looks at his hand like it's a leper. "Yeah, nice." He turns back to me. "Where ya goin'?"

I step down the stairs and over to Jeff. "_We're_..." I grab hold of Jeff's arm. "Going out."

He stares at our locked hands and then glares into my eyes. "I asked _where_."

"Uh, to-"

"To my brother's poetry reading," Jeff picks up. "He's been doing that stuff for years and finally bugged me enough to where I agreed to go. You're more than welcome to join us if you want."

Tim's hands glide into his pockets. "_Where?_"

I hold my breath. Tim's good. He picks up on lies naturally. He's spread plenty to know when someone else was. Normally he could care less about what it is someone is hiding, but tonight he's on it.

Jeff follows his lead and does the same with his hands. "Coffee shop next to Bob's car place. Have 'em there every Thursday night."

I breathe a little.

Tim's eyes fire holes into Jeff's skin. He's thinking. He's judging every move he makes and trying to pick up on the slightest sign that he is lying.

"Why are ya' home early, Tim?" I try to break his concentration. "I thought you said-"

"Things got a little heated tonight, Ang." His eyes do not move. "Plans got changed up a little bit."

"You're bleeding," I point out. "Was there a fight?"

The two do not move. I'm not sure either one has heard me speak.

Jeff's smiling slightly, but it's still there. Tim's scowling and still burning whatever he can with his eyes. It's like they're having their own conversation and I'm not invited to hear.

"Tim."

"Nah, Ang," he speaks quietly. "You like poetry?"

I nod even though he can't see me. "Jeff showed me some of his brother's stuff. Looks pretty good."

"Your new friends goin' to be there too?"

He knows he's got a hold of me. He just doesn't care about that. He thinks if he can get me to rattle, he can break Jeff down. He can get the full story.

"Uh, well, Jeff...Jeff is my new _friend,"_ I explain lightly._ '_We've been hanging out some."

"You touch her..." Tim's voice growls.

"Well, Timothy, I think you know-"

"Tim," he corrects. "And it wasn't a question, bud."

He turns and gives me a once over. I stare blankly at him, waiting for the words to slip out of his mouth.

Slowly, he moves his head back to Jeff. "Touch her... and I'll kill you on the spot. Got it, _Jeff_?"

Time seems to pace slowly as the words hit Jeff and me. I wait for his response, wanting it to be the right one. Wanting it to be the one to send my brother on his way to where he wouldn't be back.

"Loud and clear,_ Tim_. I've got a little sister of my own, ya know?" He breaks the stare and looks down at me. "I wouldn't dare lay a hand on her."

Tim's eyes move back to me. I look pleadingly up at him, begging silently for him to take a fucking hike and mind his own business like he normally does.

"Enjoy your poetry."

Jeff chuckles proudly and pats Tim on the back. "You're a good man, Tim." He walks forward toward the door. "You know, I think we can become great friends one day."

Tim's eyes have not left mine. "Yeah," he throws the word out. "One day."

"Ang, baby, you coming?" Jeff asks, ready to get out the door faster than I am.

I blink and look away. "Yeah ... yeah, I'm coming."

Jeff heads to the car, and I take a few steps forward to follow him. A hand grabs tightly on my arm and pulls me back.

"Hey," Tim speaks in a calmer voice. "Watch yourself."

His hand falls, allowing me to be free. His words make me angry. His threating over Jeff is making me angry. Him standing here is making me angry.

I rotate to meet his face. "What was that?"

He shrugs lightly and grabs a handful of chips out of the bag on the table. "Don't like him."

"What do you mean you don't like him?" I didn't give him time to answer. "I'm a big girl. I don't need my _big brother_ trying to scare off guys for me! I've got it covered. I can make my own choices without them being approved by you. So back off."

He lays his keys down on the coffee table and turns on the T.V. like he hasn't heard me.

"Got it?" I say more aggressively.

He smirks and sits down on the sofa. "Yeah, Ang. I got you all right. Run off now; _poetry_ is awaiting."

He's just sitting there, feet propped up nicely on the table, cigarette in one hand, and the other one lying nicely beside him. He hasn't heard me. He doesn't care.

"I mean it!" I shout and work my way over to the door. "I like him. I don't care what you think. Don't you dare ruin this for me, Tim!"

He blows out a cloud of smoke from his newly light stick. Him smoking should surprise me, but it doesn't. My anger is taking over and I don't care about what he's doing. I want to be heard.

"I mean it!" I'm out the door now. "Don't!"

I throw the door back as hard as I can. I'm going to be heard. No one, especially not Tim, is going to silence me.

"Everything alright, doll face?"

I slam the car door shut and cross my arms over my chest. "He's such an ass."

He laughs and cranks up the car. "Don't worry, love. He'll get what's coming to him someday. He don't frighten me none like he thinks he does. But for tonight..." He takes my hand in his. "Tonight's about us."

The softness of his skin makes me breathe. His calming words make my heart beat slower.

My head turns and I look at him. "I love you."

He leans over and gives me a small kiss. "I love you too, doll face." He puts the car into reverse. "Now, let's have some fun."

* * *

><p>"You take one," he instructs. "I'll take two and then maybe go for three."<p>

"Why do I only get one?"

He rolls his eyes and opens a packet and licks it. The two tiny squares stick to his tongue and he closes his eyes. "Just shut up and do it."

He opens the second packet and puts his finger inside letting one square stick to his finger.

He points it at me. "Here, take it."

I look at it for a moment. I know nothing about what he's holding out to me. He says it'll be good for me, that it'll take me away for a while. He tells me that he does it all the time and that there's nothing to worry about and that I'm just being a pussy.

I lick his finger, tasting salt.

"What do I do now?"

"Just let it dissolve, doll face." He smiles and takes my hand. "I ain't gonna let anythin' bad happen to you. You trust me?"

I nod. "Yeah, I trust you."

He pulls out a cigarette from his pocket and lights it. "Good. Now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride."

* * *

><p>Everything is moving except me. It feels like I'm sitting in the middle of the room and everyone's rushing by me, each one a different color without a shape. I'm a solid and they're all liquids, spinning around in the room and making a show.<p>

I feel dizzy and I have to puke, but I hold it back and watch the colors dance in front of me.

"Angel!" Jeff laughs beside me. "Angel, are you hearing this?"

I look over to see what he's laughing at. He's colored like a cartoon. I laugh because he doesn't look like the tough Jeff anymore. He's harmless.

I cover my face and hiccup. My lungs are heavy and I can't tell whether I'm standing or sitting, but somehow I find the strength to giggle like an idiot.

The Monkees are playing in the background. I look around at the brick walls and see them melting away. I want to yell out to someone so they can make them stop, but instead I sit - or stand - and giggle on like I'm a little girl in a pink, frilly dress again.

Jeff is still laughing, but its faint now. I wonder if I've moved.

He's talking to the devil worshiper who comes here once in a while with the heroin addicts. He's going on and on about some big event that's going to happen in the name of Lucifer and he's going to be the leader of it all.

Jeff's laughing at him like he's an idiot but, really, he makes more sense than anything else.

He goes on to say that he's spoken to Lucifer personally and he told him everything. He says that Lucifer has a big plan to kill us all and we better join him and welcome our new leader when he arrives.

Jeff hits me on the arm and holds his side as he barrels over laughing. "Are you listening to this?"

The devil guy keeps on talking like he doesn't even notice Jeff's rude actions. "It's going to be fire. Fire is how it'll end. Our leader likes fire. It'll be the death of everyone who will not bow down to him."

He has red eyes, piercing little beads that look like he's part spider. His hair is dark and pulled back into a small rat tail. He's the kind of person you'd see in horror movies as the killer, but right now, he seems to have a point.

"H-he told you this?" I choke out.

His head slowly rotates over to me, shocked that I spoke back to him. "Yes. I channel him and then he speaks. I am his vessel and I am to help him with his mission."

"When's he coming?"

"Soon," he answers simply. "He will not reveal the date. It's too dangerous. I have books. They have clues as to the date, but Lucifer laughs at them, saying he will come when _he_ wants to."

"Why is he coming?" I get more drawn into the conversation with every word.

"Doll face, don't en-encourage him!" Jeff is choking on spit because he's laughing so hard at this _nonsense._

The guy ignores him as if he heard nothing. "To take his world back. To prove he is our God and only him. To prove that he is more powerful than anything... I have books."

"Any good?"

"Angela-"

He sticks his chest out a little like a professor or librarian. "Very. Quite riveting."

Jeff huffs and shakes his head. "Buddy, you need help. You seriously believe that the devil himself talks to _you_? What makes you so goddamn special besides the fact that you're a freak?"

"Jeff-"

"Judge. That's all you people do." He shrugs and gets up from his seat. "You'll learn one day. You all will."

He leaves with that. He goes back to a huddle of guys who look similar to him and they share a joint. They eye our group, none of them blinking. Their eyes are threatening and cold.

"You didn't have to do that." I shake my head in embarrassment for him.

Jeff hits the guy beside him and bums his beer. "Guy's a freak, doll face. Since when did you like people like that anyway?"

_Since you gave me whatever you gave me._

"Jeff, I don't feel good." I hold my head, though it doesn't hurt; I just want an excuse to get out of here. "Can you take me home?"

He rolls his eyes and fiddles with his blade. "No. I'm not done here."

"I think its past my curfew and Jake's home. Ma's going to kill me and I can't walk all that way. Jeff, I gotta-"

"God, you're such a bitch. You haven't shut your trap since you fucking got here!" He's angry now. His words are like knifes stabbing me but I can't feel them.

"I'm not a _bitch_," I assert firmly. "Take me home."

He flicks the blade a couple of times, and then leans over to where his face is in mine. "No."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

He rubs his head and leans back again. I want to get up and walk out, but my legs feel funny and I can't see the door anymore.

A hand takes mine. It's not soft and comforting any more. It's warm and sweaty and sticky.

The hand pulls me to my feet. His arms extend and pull me by the waist and warm breath breathes into my ear. "We can go to the car. We can do that, love."

"Jeff-"

"I love you, Angela." He bites my ear lobe. "Do you love me?"

"Yes."

He lets loose and twirls my baby curls around his finger. "Really?"

"Yes."

It's silent for a moment, then the warm breath comes back and he speaks slowly: "Then show me."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yeah, so there it is. I threw in some protective brother fluff in there for those of you who like that.

But anyway, thank you for your time. :)


	5. Trails of Blood

**A/N: **So I got yet _another_ neice Tuesday night. Makes the count up to five now!

Time line is important in this chapter. Just throwing that out there. ;)

Kudos as always go to **you taryn at six** for being an amazing beta reader.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

><p><strong>February 19, 1967<strong>

Bottles are breaking, sloppy kisses are being heard from miles away, loud music is making ears ring, and Tulsa's finest are heating up the little place at the end of the block.

Jeff's beside me, toying with the idea of taking off and heading over to the warehouse before things go south. He says Buck's isn't his favorite place to come. He says people judge too much here and the warehouse is where we belong.

"It's going to be fun," I assure him, gently rubbing his bicep. "You can meet some of my friends. Don't worry 'bout it."

His body is tense and he's looking around for someone. He's going on about wanting a beer, yet he doesn't get up and get one. He wants me to do it so he can find whoever he's looking for without me around.

"Jeff, you okay?" I lean in closer to him and tickle his ear. "Come on, smile. You look like you got a stick up your ass. I wanna show you off. At least try an' look happy."

My finger circles around his ear and my other hand rests on his inner thigh, slowly inching closer.

"I ain't a new puppy, Angela," he growls. "Don't treat me like one." His hand smacks mine away from his ear and he folds his arms over his chest. "Can't even get a beer 'cause of all these people."

"No one's stopping you from gettin' it yourself, ya know?"

His eyes dart toward me. "Yeah well you just sittin' there on your fat ass ain't doin' either one of us any good, _ya know_?"

"What is your _problem_?" I shout angrily.

He continues to pout like a little boy. "Nothing."

I stare at him, asking silently for a decent answer. His eyes are moving across the room trying to pick out the right person. More and more people pass, each one not a match for what he's hunting.

"I love you," I confess desperate for his affection.

He's silent for a while. He's biting the tips of his nails off and still searching the premises for whomever it is he wants.

"Jeff, I said I love you. Ya gonna say it back or just sit there?"

"I heard ya, doll face," he speaks at a whisper and his head turns to me again. "Wanna go upstairs? Might make me feel a little better."

"You gonna be nice and stop bein' such an ass?"

He smiled a crooked smile. "Oh I'll be very _nice_."

* * *

><p>You can still hear the music from the top of the stairs. Couples swarm out of the rooms. Guys snap their jeans back and girls straight their hair and skirts to make it look like nothing happened.<p>

Jeff has my hand and he's dragging me down the hall toward the room at the end. "This alright?" he asks before tapping on the door.

I shrug and motion for him to go ahead.

Hearing nothing from the other end, he opens the thick wooden door, showing something on the other end I thought I'd only see in dream, a very disturbing dream.

His pants are down; her head lays on his lap with her lower body covered by a thin sheet. He's moaning and running his fingers through her hair, mumbling sexual things to her.

"The fuck is this?"

Her head snaps up as Tim's dick drops from her mouth. "Oh, God, Ang-"

I charge toward her not missing a beat. "What the fuck is my brother's _dick_ doing in your mouth?"

Tim scrambles off the bed and lands with a thud as he tries to zip his pants back up, a shocked notion about his movements. He stays with his back facing us, not wanting anyone to see the red.

Danni holds her hands up in defense. "Ang, w-we were going to tell you it's just-"

"Just what? You've got my brother's penis in your _mouth_!"

She runs her hands through her hair and looks to the floor as she tries to come up with the words to say. Her face is a dark shade of red and she has a look on her face that is full of shame.

Jeff is still by the door. From the corner of my eye I can see him laughing and throwing back his beer, full amusement in his eyes.

Tim's back is still toward us and he tries to act like he's hunting for something on the floor, in the drawers, where ever he can look without us catching his face.

"I can't fucking believe this!" I yell to no one in particular.

Danni's head lightly looks up again. "We were just... we were going to sell you it's just-"

Her words rat her out. "God, are you drunk too?" I roughly grab her face and make her look at me.

She slaps my hand off. "No!" she screams, appalled.

"You're slurring!" I point out.

Jeff smirks as Danni's face gets even redder. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Her eyes swiftly take notice to him. "Why-who-what are you doing with him?" She turns back to me. "This is _Jeff_? _The_ Jeff? I thought you said you were done with slimy jackasses!

"_I_ thought you had more sense than to stick Tim's dick in your mouth!" I throw back. "And you don't know him! Don't try and turn this on me either."

Tim shows his bright red flustered face for the first time. "Ang, just get outta here for minute."

I turn my glare to him. "Don't tell me what to do. Is this why you've been going out so much? You've been seeing _her_?"

He runs a hand through his hair and goes about what he was doing before.

"You lied to me," I hiss harshly toward Danni. "You lied to my _face_!"

That's when I notice the sheet she's clinging too that's covering her lower body.

"Why do you have that there?" I step forward.

She gets a death grip on it. "Angela, _don't_!"

I latch on to the end of the sheet. "What do you have to hide, Danni? Huh? Throw the sheet down!"

"Angela, stop!" We begin a tug-of-war for it.

"Angela, knock it off!" Tim's voice rings.

"Come on, Danni!" I tease. "You have bottoms on, right?"

"Angela, quit!"

An arm latches on to me and throws me across the room. "Get outta here!" Tim yells fiercely.

I stumble loosely, shocked at his attempts to protect _her_. "So I'm the bad guy here? I'm not the one who was caught with their pants down!"

"Get _out_!" Each word is covered with hate and anger. He points to the door and takes a strong position in front of Danni, not letting me look at her any more.

I feel a dead weight in my stomach. It's a feeling I'm not sure of, but I stand still in my position and stare at the two like the words didn't bother me.

Danni's eyes glue to the floor again. Tim is still pointing to the door, not moving an inch from his position. He's protecting her from me. He's defending her - a girl who's supposed to be just a toy to him.

I shake my head and nervously laugh. "You're a _dick." _I turn to look at Danni. "Don't come crying to me when he leaves you flat on your ass. In fact, don't talk to me..._ever_."

"Angela," she whines, "you're overreacting."

I turn back to Tim. "I can't believe you'd even do _that_. Godamnit, Tim!"

"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here."

I stare him down, fighting back angry tears. "Fuck you two!"

I flip my hair back and run out the door, harshly bumping Jeff on the way out.

"Doll face!"

I run as fast as I can, not caring who I bump into and just having my eyes on the door and not stopping until I reach it.

"Angela!"

Words are shouted as I shove into more people. I can't feel my legs and my heart feels like it's about to come out of my mouth. I'm floating out the door and outside into the cold wet rain.

I feel the freezing drops pelt against my neck, and then the wet grass sticks to my bare feet. My stomach is turning into knots and I can't get the picture out of my mind.

I can feel cheep beer churning in my stomach with the need to come back up. My head is spinning and I can't see straight anymore. My throat pulses and I can't take much more.

Reaching the alley behind the dark building, I barrel over and empty my stomach out in the dumpster that smells like something rotten.

"Doll face," a soothing voice calls from a few feet away.

I grab my stomach and wince. "Over here."

His shoes make squishing noises as he gets closer to me. I use the smelly dumpster to hold me up and the soft noises of stray cat's meowing to calm me down.

"You alright?"

"I think I'm going to be sick again," I give him fair warning.

He chuckles a little and I can smell the scent of him lighting a cigarette. "Looks like they've gotten along pretty well."

I place my forehead on my arm and breathe in and out until I think I'm out of breath. I want him gone. I want to shoot him with my eyes and make him dead. I want to grab that cigarette out of his hand and shove it right into his eye.

"Come on." He nudges my weak body. "Let's get back to it."

I let out a quick moan and try to keep my body still. "Jeff, no. I'm sick. I can't...I can't go back there, alright?"

He laughs at me. "Come on, love." He nudges me harder. "Move your ass."

He's nudging and laughing at me. His laugh makes my insides twist. Him nudging me makes me hold onto my structure to keep from falling over. The smoke from his cigarette is making the hairs inside my nose burn.

"Jeff, quit."

He laughs once again. "Come on, doll face. What's the problem? Big bro got a girl? You jealous? Come on, quit actin' like a little kid and get your ass up."

Wind blows against my body. My feet feel like ice and I can feel my face getting chapped. The cats are no longer meowing and the music inside is soft again.

He's still laughing but it's faint now. I can see his stupid scrunched up face. His eyes are looking at me like I'm the mockery of the town and me being this way amuses him.

"Stop," I whisper.

He grabs the collar of my jacket and pulls. "Come _on_."

"No."

"Doll face, come on."

"No."

"Move!"

My feet get caught under each other and I fall forward. My left hand hangs onto the lid of the dumpster and Jeff pulls harder, still holding on to my jacket.

My eyes look up at him, standing there, laughing, pulling me along like a dog, making fun of me, mocking me. He should be on my side. He should be telling me how much of dick Tim is and how much of a bitch Danni is. He should be with _me_.

A nerve hits. I'm no longer sick. My body no longer aches. My weak voice is now being over powered by someone else's. My heart is pounding and adrenaline is hitting me. The world is looking at me again and it's just Jeff and I. We're alone, and he's pulling me, hurting me, and I'm angry.

"Get off me!" I slap down his hand, allowing myself to be free. I stumble and bang into the dumpster but still remain standing, anger firing through my bones.

"Bitch!" he spits out, taking a stride towards me. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

I swallow the puke rising up in my throat and lean against the object. "Don't tug on me. Don't touch me. You're supposed to be-"

"Answer my question!" He's in front of me now. I can feel his musky breath on my face. I can smell sweat and beer all over his body. I can see the fire in his cold gray eyes.

I pull my body off the dumpster. "You didn't do anything! You stood there and laughed. You didn't even say anything when he threw me across the room! You think that was funny? I'm upset and all you fucking care about is sex! You-you just stand there and laugh at me! Who the fuck do you think _you_ are? You're a fucking-"

A fist is balled up and swung back.

My crumpled body hits the ground, I gasp for air, but oxygen eludes my grasp. A weight is lifted off me as the ground is no longer under me.

Everything's spinning. There's something hard behind me. Someone in front of me is pushing me up against it and their hand is pulling on my hair. My eyes are open but all I can see is dark black circles and a pale balled object coming toward me.

I gasp and try to hold my face but his arms are now holding mine against the wall. Everything's dark again and there's pressure on my face. Warm liquid is running down my chin and I can taste it pouring in my mouth.

"Please," I cough. "Please, don't."

Someone pulls my head down by my hair. I scream out and tears begin spewing out of my eyes.

"You listen to me," a haunting unrecognizable voice warns. "You ever, _ever_, disrespect me again, and you can fucking guarantee you won't have to worry about your _brother_. I'll teach you one way or another!" He pulls down again. "You may be able to talk to your brother that way but I'll be damned if you ever speak to me that way again. Got it?"

My voice is gone, unable to answer the stranger in front of me. Spit and blood is filling up in my mouth and I can't breathe. All I can do is nod and nod until this stranger decides to leave me.

My knees make contact with the concrete and the rest of my body falls with them.

Everything is slowly moving. I'm spinning and the blood in my mouth is now pooling over. My legs are cold and in a muddy puddle and my feet don't feel connected to me any longer.

I can't see. I can't move. All I can hear is the squishing noise of the stranger leaving me here, leaving me here with a warning.

A warning I am to remember.

* * *

><p>I can hear the sounds of the people walking the street below me. They all look happy, going about their business like they don't have a care in the world. Everything is just rainbows and sunshine in their little world.<p>

My face hurts. I can feel both of my eyes starting to swell but my legs are so numb that I can't leave this position to go get the ice.

I let the tears run down my face, too sick to even bother stopping them. That sounds pathetic - and maybe I am _pathetic_ - but right now... my face fucking hurts.

I imagine someone banging on my door. Someone shouting at me to open it up because they know there's something wrong. My mother's out there with them. She can tell there's something wrong with me too and she wants to come in and hold me in her arms and tell me everything is okay.

She runs in, sweeping me in her arms and shushing me and telling me everything is going to be okay and that we'll figure everything out. Tim comes in, Curly following behind him. They join in and we make a big family hug and all cry together like that shit the Curtis' do.

They give me ice, some pain pills, and sit up with me and hand me tissues while I tell them the story.

They say that everything is going to be okay. My mother hugs me once more and lets out a whimper about how sorry she is. Then they give me the best news ever that Jason has ran his car into a lake and couldn't get the doors open.

_"Everything's going to be okay," _they say again, and I believe them.

But there's no one at my door, and everything's not _ok_ay.

I leave my position and crawl across the rough carpet, loose threads scraping and sticking to my cut knees. I keep crawling until I reach the side of my bed.

I stretch my hand out and touch the glass and it dings against something else. This glass has been under here for some time. This glass I stole from my mother when she was on one of her kicks. This glass bottle I keep just for times like this.

I take the top off and lean against my bed, letting the bottle touch my sore check.

_"This is Jeff? The Jeff? I thought you said you were done with slimy jackasses!"_

_"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here."_

_"You ever, ever, disrespect me again, and you can fucking guarantee you won't have to worry about your brother. I'll teach you one way or another! Got it?"_

I take the bottle in my hand and rub it up and down. The liquid splashes about and my mouth waters. I open the bottle and let everything run down my throat until I can't feel anything anymore.

Fuck them. Fuck every damn one of them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I don't think anyone is shocked, but there you go. Not too happy about this chapter but whatever. Thoughts about it? Reviews are very nice. :)


	6. Walking Dead

**A/N: **I don't normally do songs unless I find something that really fits. So if you were to be so kind, read the lyrics or listen to the song. Pretty damn creepy if you listen to it, but it fits. :)

Big thanks to,** you taryn at six** for beta reading.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _The Outsiders_ or the song _Angie Baby_ by Helen Reddy.

* * *

><p><strong>March 5, 1967<strong>

_You live your life in the songs you hear, on the rock and roll radio. And when a young girl doesn't have any friends, that's a really nice place to go. You're a little touched you know, Angie Baby._

People always told me to watch myself when it came to boys. They said that being in love with someone wasn't something to take lightly. You have to watch who you let yourself fall in love with.

Grandma always said: "_You watch them one's who act like they're smoother than Elvis himself. They're the ones you gotta watch. They'll trick ya into doin' anything, and then they'll take over your mind. Don't let them take over your mind, Angel. Don't let them get that. Watch yourself_."

"Angela," says a raspy voice beside me. "You alright? You been havin' that look on your face for two weeks. What's botherin' ya?"

"Nothin' Ma."

"Well why you lookin' like that? Must have a pretty good reason. Ain't seen ya with that black make-up on in days." She takes a sip of her drink. She lights a cigarette, and I sink farther into the couch.

I breathe a little and continue to keep my attention to the static cartoon on T.V.

"You gonna talk?" She leans over a little. Her leg touches mine and I feel like lightning is surging through my body. Something warm is inside of me, outside and spreading. Everywhere.

She tries to look into my eyes and everything inside of me turns into liquid.

"Ginger, we got any bacon?" the man in the kitchen hollers, breaking the tension in the dull room.

She huffs and parts from me. "In the door of the fridge!"

Her breath smells like cough syrup and cigarettes. Her hair is greasy and gray roots are coming out because she didn't have enough money last week to get them dyed. Jason spent the last pay check on Kools and then gambled the rest away on a ball game.

The house smells like death and there's stuff piled up everywhere. No one cleans when Ma's out or when I'm not around. It's our job.

Curly slept here last night for the first time all week but Tim hasn't been here for a while as far as I can tell. Curly mumbled off something about him going to Texas for some big race he'd put some money on but I know the real reason he hasn't been around.

"That girl called again!" Jason yells back into the living room. "Woke me up."

"God, Ang, just call the girl back. She wants to talk to you so _talk_."

Her cigarette sends smoke my way. I take a sip of my water and watch my cartoon and act like she's not talking to me, that she's not even beside me right now and I'm not down here because Jason dragged me and threatened to send me to a hospital.

I'm upstairs in the same position I've been in for two weeks, reading my book, sleeping, occasionally smoking a joint, and then watching Jake sleep. I'm minding my own business and marking down the time until my next meal.

"_What's_ bothering you?" she drags out. Her knee touches mine and I can smell her again.

The air around us is hazy and smokey and I can see the sun starting to set outside through the dusty dirty window.

"It feels like I ain't seen you in two weeks."

She _hasn't_ seen me in two weeks.

Her knee is sticking to mine by sweat. Her hand is stroking my thigh and she's still talking like I'm listening to her when all I want to do is punch her and walk back to my room, though she probably wouldn't care. She'd still be sitting here an hour later, laughing that stupid laugh of hers like nothing happened.

"Angel, you listenin' to me?" Her hand moves to my face and I lean away. "God, why are you so touchy?"

I shrug and pretend to watch Jason cook in the kitchen. He cusses as the bacon splatters onto his beer stomach, and I hold back a chuckle. Idiot.

"Some boy called last week." She puts her cigarette out and the lights another one. "If you'd come out of your room, I would have remembered to tell ya."

She did tell me. Twice. She stumbled into my room, drunk and half-naked, with a sheet of paper she scribbled out the words _call Greff _on and a mess of numbers that only had six digits and some were smudged out with beer and grease. The second time she came was the next day and she was crying because she thought she forgot to tell me and went on about how she thought I was going to die all alone and have twenty-five cats like Aunt Marie.

We really needed to fill her meds sooner than we did.

"He your boyfriend?" She blows out a breath of smoke. "Sure don't see him like you would a boyfriend. Probably left you by now. Why ain't you gone out an' seen him?"

Jason's still cooking the bacon without a shirt on. Jason's not the most attractive man my mother brought home. He looks like one of the guys she'd bring home once in a while when I was little and then we'd never see them again.

He's got big gut like he's carrying twins or something. He used to be real slim when I first met him but then he stopped using and went to bacon and joints. He's got real greasy hair, too. Not greasy like Tim or Curly, but the kind that looks like he just got done taking a shower. I'm not sure if he _does_ shower. Sure doesn't smell like it.

Mom used to have taste. Robert was a classy guy. He was slim - not real slim - but he'd look like a twig compared to Jason, and he had nice hair and glasses. Not the type of guy you'd expect to hang around with us but he stayed longer than anyone else.

"God, Angela, what the hell is the matter with ya?"

Her meds are working overtime today. The coffee table looks like she might have swept the shit off it too.

"Answer me, hon."

Flip, splatter, sniff, scratch stomach, pick at belly button, pick at grease, lick finger.

"Angela, look at me!" She's shouting now like she _knows_ there's a problem. Or _thinks_ she knows.

I turn and meet her brown sober eyes. I haven't seen them in a while. It's a nice, comforting thing to look at. They make her look young again. Sometimes she actually looks happy this way.

"Is it a boy?" she asks, jumping to the conclusion. "It's always 'bout a boy. I don't see why you always got to let boys come around like you do. You've had 'em after ya since you were a kid and then you just give it to them. God, Angela."

Her legs are spread open and her robe is half way open and her right boob is half way showing. She curses and covers it up quickly, fearing I might see it or something.

She sighs and goes on again. "You gotta listen to me 'bout them boys. I know them; I'm older than you. You were just like me when I was your age. Mmm, I had them boys following me around too. Heck, your father was the worst. Was after me for years before I said yes."

I wonder why I'm still listening. I wonder why I'm still sitting here pretending to act fine when I'm just tired and sick. I wonder why Jason came upstairs and got me. I wonder why they care.

"You gotta' hold it against them," she informs me. "The more you give the more power they think they got over ya. That's your problem; you give out too much."

"I don't."

"Oh I've seen them boys you bring over here. You think I don't know what you're doin' with them?" She takes a drag of her stick. "Heck, Angela, you got pregnant with some guy you just met. I'd say you ain't the type to wait."

She chuckles like it's funny; like it's funny that her daughter gives out so much and got pregnant at sixteen to a guy she just met.

"I'm okay."

She crosses her legs and stares at me. Her eyes are squinting and she's trying to get a good look at my face. My face that has too much concealer on and is hidden by my hair.

"What's that?" She points and the tip of her fingernail touches my cheek.

I shrug. "I dunno."

"Don't play dumb," she snaps, a bit annoyed. "Looks like a bruise. Where'd ya get it?"

I pick at a scab on my knee and then pinch the blood out of it when it starts to bleed. "I dunno, maybe at Buck's a few weeks ago, or maybe in the shower."

"Mhmm." She leans back and thinks for a minute. "He hit you?"

The blood pools up in a little circle. I squeeze harder and make more come out until it over flows and starts to run down my leg and onto my foot. "Who?"

"You know who." Her voice is softer this time. It's tamed. "Has that boy hit you, Angel?"

I squeeze and no more blood comes out. The top is starting to crust up again and a new scab is growing around the wound. "No, Ma. He ain't touch me."

Her lips smack and I can smell her putting out her cigarette.

For a moment I think she's given up. Then I feel a gentle hand run through my hair and her knuckles rub my sore cheek up and down. She hums for a minute and continues to rub and think, rub and think.

"You can tell me, baby. You can talk to me," she whispers. "Tell me, baby. Tell me what he done to you."

Her hands feel warm against my skin. Her humming has stopped and she's just sitting here, rubbing, and waiting for an answer.

"He didn't do nothin', Ma."

"Ginger, what's goin' on?" Jason's leaning against the wall beside us. He has his arms crossed over and he's watching us and chomping on his crisp bacon.

Ginger shakes her head. "She won't tell me nothin'," she complains. "That boy hit her, ya know?"

My head snaps over to her. "He did not!"

"You think I don't know why you been up in that room so long? Why you got all them bumps and cuts all over your damn face?" She goes on and on.

"You don't know anything!" I screech, fed up. "You didn't even know I was up there that long till' Curly told ya. You don't know him anyway. You think you know everything when you don't know a fucking thing!"

"Hey!" Jason barges in. "You watch your mouth!"

"What do you want from me?" I ask her. "Since when do you even give a shit?" I tuck my hair behind my ear and laugh. "Since when do you give a fuck if I get hit in the head or knocked up?"

"You know I do a lot for you kids!"

"Oh bullshit," I spew. "You're off your meds too much to even get the fuck outta bed for three days or to even leave enough money for us to buy _food_! Food, Ginger. You're too worried about gettin' your cigarettes and Vodka."

"Hey, I'm warning you kid!"

"And you know what else? You just sit here and pretend to care. That's what really gets me. If you gave this many fucks when James was messin' around with me when I was a kid, then maybe I wouldn't have gotten pregnant with some stranger!"

Something pulls me from behind. My body falls to the floor and I gasp as he lets loose of what little hair I have left.

"You show your damn mother some respect!" he shouts from behind me. "I'll bust your ass, girl!"

I scramble across the floor to where I can see his large body standing over me.

"I'll be damned if you act like that in my house you little brat!" He starts to unbuckle his belt.

I can hear Ginger begin to sob from the sofa and Jake begin to yell from upstairs. She has her head buried in her hands and she's rambling on about how she tried and she was a good mother to me. She just couldn't control me. It's my fault.

"Don't you dare touch me," I growl out.

"I'll do more than touch you. I'm gonna teach you how to show some damn respect 'round here!" He pulls the belt through the loops of his jeans. "Stand up!"

"No."

"Stand up you little bitch!"

She's sobbing harder. Jake's crying out even louder with every second. Jason's folding up the belt and standing over me like he owns everything I have. Like he owns _me. _

"No."

"Get up!" He grabs onto my foot and starts to pull. Ginger's screaming out now. She's saying she doesn't know what happened to me, that she tried to do right by me but just couldn't.

"Get the fuck off me!" My fingers latch into the carpet. Jason's eyes are bugged out and he's trying to pull harder and ends up running into the lamp and causing it to break.

"Goddamn good for nothing whore!"

Everything's spinning again. I'm outside standing by the window, watching everything. Watching my mother's lover pull me by the foot with a belt in his hands he intends to hit me with. I can see Ginger yelling and crying out to God, Jesus, whoever she can get to. Then I can see me laying on the ground, face pummeled and slowly healing, a dried blood trail down my leg, and being pulled like a no good dog.

"I'm not a whore!" Everything moves again. My foot is driven right into Jason's face and he yells out and holds it while blood pours out of his nose.

I race up off the floor, hearing the shouts of him trying to get me back there so he can pay me back, show me who's boss.

I run. I run as if my foot doesn't hurt anymore. As if my face isn't numb. As if the roots of my hair isn't on fire.

Rain pours down on me and lightning is going off, shining a light for me to see. Everything's running down with me. My feet are sticking in the mud and my tears are blurring my vision and I can't see, I don't know where I'm going.

But I run and I run.

_Angie girl, are you all right? Tell the radio good-night. All alone once more, Angie Baby._

* * *

><p>One knock is all it takes before a voice on the other end calls back, telling me to wait.<p>

I wrap my arms around my muddy body and pray silently. Pray that I can just lay in the warmness of his room, in the warmness of his bed, the warmness of his arms. Just for a minute.

The nob twists and the door opens. He's on the other end, shirt off and jeans jumped into with the button missing.

He looks at me and I look at him. He notices the blood on my leg, the mud on my body, and the tears in my eyes. He doesn't say anything, just stands back at stares at my torn body.

"M-my mom, Ja-Jason he...he...she..." I gasp for enough air to get my words out but it's not working. "I-I...I can-can't..."

I sob and try and gain a breath that isn't there.

He stands in front of me, just looking. His eyes are dark and comforting. His body language is soft and the muscles on his stomach are moving, saying that he was working on them before I came.

Thunder booms again as the rain picks up speed. He's still looking at me and watching the tears run down to meet the wet concrete ground I'm standing on, freezing my toes.

"You, um, you wanna come in?"

I stare blankly into his eyes. He's tired. He has the bags and dark circles to prove that he hasn't slept well in a while.

"Yeah."

It's warm inside. There's a smell of Old Spice and weed and there's an over cast of smoke. His bedroom is the living room and the kitchen. There's another door that leads into a pale pink bathroom and another one beside the T.V. that holds large winter coats and a variety of porn magazines and shoes.

There's a dark green sofa that sits on the floor in front of a beaten T.V. with a stand beside it, holding a mug of condoms and an alarm clock.

Beside the bed are two tiny windows caked with dust, and there's a dead plant resting on the one closest to the door.

I sit on the bed that's being held up by four cement blocks that look ready to break. I've been on this bed before. It smells like feet. I've seen the ceiling above this bed, and it has stains from where it leaks when it rains.

He comes out of the bathroom with a blue towel in his hand. "Here." He tries to put it around me, but I snatch it before he can. "It'll dry you off."

I nod and he starts to sit beside me when a ringing noise comes from the kitchen along with a strong smell and smoke.

"Shit!"

He gets up and runs to the stove and takes out a try of burnt garlic bread.

"Well, so much for dinner."

It seems like forever for him to come back. He throws the bread away and tosses the tray into the sink that's already stacked high with plates.

He picks up a semi-clean glass from the counter and fills it half full with water. He comes back to me and holds it out.

I drink and he sits back down beside me, farther away than he would normally be.

"What happened?"

I swallow the water in my mouth and sigh. "I don't know. I just...I just stand them."

It's silent for a while. He's staring at me and watching me drink the water he's brought to me and dry my hair with his towel. The red walls are hurting my eyes and the buzzing of the many flies are making my head hurt more.

I want to lie down. I want to go to sleep. I want to hold something and cuddle with it and whisper things in its ear. I want something warm to be with me.

"You, um, you wanna stay here tonight?" he offers.

"No, no I don't." There's tears coming out of my eyes and my temples are pounding.

"Angela-"

I scoot away from him, not wanting his hand to touch my body again.

There's movement and he's in front of me. He's trying to make me look him in the eyes but all I can see are the tiny bugs scurrying across his floor.

His hands take my face. He's talking and begging me to listen, to stop crying and to stay with him, let him help me.

"Darlin' please?" he begs. "You need me."

I chock on a sob and he goes on.

"Let me take care of ya. Let me protect you. I can protect you Angela."

I gaze up at his eyes, seeing a soft, calm, light inside of them.

"You need me, Angela. You need me to take care of you. Let me take care of ya, love. I'm sorry. I'm real sorry."

It's clam. My sobs have stopped and the flies have fallen. It's quite and he's not smiling.

"Angela, please?"

My hands run through his hair and his eyes close. Tears seep through his eyes and run down his check. I press my lips on his forehead, and work down to his lips, gently taking in each of his features.

I let go and his eyes light up again. "I'll protect you. I'll protect you from them. You'll be my girl. Always, Angela. Forever and always."

_Angie Baby, you're a special lady, living in a world of make-believe. Well, maybe. Well, maybe._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thoughts about Jeff's comfort?


	7. Mistaken

**A/N: **This chapter may sound _very_ familiar to some of you. ;)

Sorry about the wait. I'm extremely busy right now and I have a lot on my mind. I'll try and keep with it though.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

As always, deeds go to, **you taryn at six, **for beta reading.

* * *

><p><strong>April 10, 1967<strong>

"Jeff!" I call out once again, getting nothing but the sound of the wind blowing through the streets.

There's a street preacher at the end of the block. He's shouting at all the people walking by about how God wants us to save ourselves. How sex before marriage is wrong. Virginity is something to keep locked and valued. Once you lose it, you can never get it back. People need to start saving themselves again. It's going to get worse, much worse, he warns us.

I turn down the alley and run again. I need to catch him before he gets lost. There's something wrong with him. He's upset and he doesn't know what to do. He needs me right now.

I have to find him.

She was lying. The blood on her face...there was too much. Her ripped clothes showing too much. She was crying too much.

He was going to kill Jeff. He kept hitting and hitting. His eyes were wide and angry. He wasn't going to stop. He was going to keep going until he had killed him.

He's hurt. He needs me.

"Jeff!"

Why wasn't I there? Why didn't I just shut-up and go with him rather than stay in that house with those people and act like I was happy again? Acting like everything was okay between us when all I wanted to do was get a knife and kill them both and let them lay in their own blood until they rotted.

"Please! Jeff, are you out there?"

I could have prevented all this. He takes care of me; I need to be taking care of him too.

Some stray dogs are walking around the park. One has his head buried deep in a trash can and a few are circling around the wooden picnic tables. They're all skin and bones and desperate for anything to eat.

There's a shadow of someone on the swings. They have their feet scraping the dirt below and the chains are slightly moving making an eerie squeaking noise. They're all alone, just sitting there, their back towards me.

"Jeff?" I take a few steps closer.

It doesn't move.

"Jeff, is that you?"

A street light blinks a few times before going out again. I can see blood on the dirt. His shoes are covered with it as well. He's wounded.

"Are...are you okay?" I move to where I'm behind him. "Jeff we need to take you to the hospital or something. We don't have to tell them what happened but we need to go. You need some help."

He kicks a small dirt ball. "She was lying."

"I believe you but please, we need to go. You're bleeding a lot, Jeff."

The chains make the same noise as he continues to move. It's dark and I can't see a thing. I want out of here. I want to go somewhere and take care of him and show him that I care the same way he does.

"I could've taken that prick. I could have busted his face in."

"You should've!" I holler loudly. "He did this to you. You should've kicked his ass!"

The slow pace of the swing stops and he jumps out of the blue seat. His eyes are glowing and his fits are in balls. "You think I don't fucking know that? Where the fuck were you? I didn't see you doing a goddamn thing to help!"

"I was trying!" I scream. "I was scared okay? You think I can take on Dallas Winston? I couldn't do anything!"

He takes a strong step forward. "You stood over there like a fucking idiot! You believe her don't you?"

"Don't call me that!"

"Don't you?" he yells louder.

I rub my head. I can see the blood on her face and her ripped clothing. The look on her face begging for me. "No, okay!"

He turns around and kicks the trunk of an old oak. Leaves fall from the poor tree as he kicks it again. "You stay away from her!" He faces me again. "You stay away from that bitch!"

"She's my best friend!" I defend her. "You can't expect me-"

"Fine, you go back to her and you can fucking have each other. Believe her dumb ass over mine. Go ahead!" He's closer now. I can feel his warm breathe on me.

"You're drunk," I point out harshly.

He waves me off and turns around again. "Fuck you."

"I'm trying to help you here!" I shout at him. "Stop trying to push me away. I got scared. I'm still scared. They could call the cops. She's bleeding a lot and...and I just don't know what to do, okay? Don't yell at me!"

"They ain't going to call the cops." His voice is calmer this time. He rests his forehead on the tree and breathes for a minute. "No one calls the cops at Bucks. They aren't that stupid."

I take a seat on the picnic table and breathe out a breath of air. I need a damn cigarette.

"Fuck!" He punches the defenseless tree. "That stupid bitch! I should go back there and kick his ass and then show her not to mess with me. Fucking bastards!"

He won't touch Danni. He better not. She's a girl. She didn't do anything...I don't think. What if she was telling the truth? What if Jeff did do that to her? What if he _tried_ to do that?

"What...what happened?" I choke. "What was she doing there? What were you two doing?"

He grumbles and huffs out a loud sigh. "Didn't I already FUCKING explain that?"

"No, you said-"

"Don't tell me what I did or did not say!" There's vibrations on the ground as he gets closer to me. His arms grab mine and I can feel him in my face. "You are such a fucking idiot! You know that?"

I shove him away. "I'm not an idiot! I just wanted to fucking know what was going on. She had blood all over her and you were on the bed...I didn't know what to think!"

"I explained it to you, you fucking _moron_!"

"Don't call me that!"

He reaches back and slaps me. My cheek stings and all I can think about are those stupid dogs a few feet away. What are they fucking doing here? They're just there - not doing anything.

"Don't touch me like that!" I shove him again and he takes a hold of my arm; his fingers dig into my skin. "I'm not a damn dog, you son of a bitch!"

I wait for something to happen. I wait to be thrown to the ground and kicked. I wait for a pain to be brought to my face, but nothing happens. It's silent except for an outsider's footsteps coming our way.

"What's all the yelling goin' on out 'ere?"

You could smell the smoke coming off of Jesse Manes a mile away. Each time he enters a room it's clear who it is and who is likely to be with him, or in front of him to be more correct.

They stroll into the light showing a cloud of smoke surrounding them. He goes on to speak, "Well, Angel, what brings ya out in these parts?"

"Nothing, Jesse."

"Angela?" Tim's voice rises over everyone's. His eyes turn to Jeff in an instant and suddenly there's a loosening of his grip. "What's going on here big boy?"

"Nothing," I answer for him. "Go away, Tim. We're having a conversation."

"Sounds like an argument to me." He slips his hands into his pockets and studies Jeff.

"It isn't," I growl. "Go away!"

"Timothy," Jeff cackles. "I think it's best if you go now. This is between sister and I."

"I think you best get your hands off her before you get your face pounded in," Tim threatens calmly.

He lets go and show his hands up as a sign of him surrendering. "There, no need to overreact. We were just having a conversation, Tim, nothing more. Sometimes we just need to clear the air. Ain't that right, love?"

I looked between the two. Tim starts to slowly make his way over to me, not taking his eyes off of Jeff. He gently picks up my face and forces me to look at him. I know he can see it. I know he's staring at it.

"Quit!" I shout and back away. "I'm fine."

His eyes move to Jeff. "You hit her?"

I hold my breath and watch as everything starts crashing again.

He stomps over to where Jeff still stands, a smirk all over his face. "Now, Tim, I think it'd be best if you calmed down. We can surely-"

"Tim!" It's no use. It's already happened.

Jeff stumbles and tries to stay standing once the punch is sent to his already sore face. Tim doesn't say anything as Jeff scrambles away, neither of them do. Tim just keeps moving closer and closer each time Jeff backs away.

"What happened to her face? Where'd the cut come from on the side of her mouth?" Tim asks, tightening his jaw a little tighter with each word.

"Nothing!" I tell him. "He didn't do it, Tim. Back off!"

"Shut up!" His voice gets loud again and his eyes move from Jeff. "Mom told me what happened so don't even think about it. I know, alright?"

"Mom doesn't know anything, Tim!" I try and reason with him. "You know that!"

My throat hurts. Tim isn't looking at me anymore and I can smell the smoke off the jacket that Jesse's wearing from where he now stands beside me. I want to slap him and send him back to where ever he came from. I want him away from my brother.

"You bash her face in!" Tim kicks his weak body. "I bash yours!"

He kicks his face. Jeff doesn't scream, he doesn't yelp. He remains where is, leaning over and gasping for air. Twice. It's twice in one night. I'm supposed to take care of him. He takes care of me.

"Tim, stop!" Someone's holding me back. They have my arms and are making sure I don't go near the two.

Tim doesn't say anything. He keeps kicking the already beaten dog. I can't feel my throat anymore as the screams come out silent now. Not again. This needs to stop. He is not in charge of me. No one is.

"Come on, Timothy. I love your baby sister here. You know I'd never do anything to hurt her," Jeff soothes. "You surely don't believe I'd hurt her, now do you?"

Again. There's a yelp this time.

Tim smirks at the blood dripping from Jeff's nose. "Well this should be some incentive for you then."

Again. Again. Again. He's not stopping. It's a remake all over again.

"Get 'im, Tim!" Jesse hoops like this is a wrestling match. He laughs like this is funny.

Tim goes on and on again. He thinks he's helping me while I stand here and scream for him to stop. He thinks I'm dumb, too, and can't take care of myself. He thinks he's doing me a favor, protecting me.

Again. Again. Again. Again. Each time something happens. My head hurts. He's banging holes in me. This shouldn't be happening. This is my fault. This whole thing is _my_ fault.

"Tim, stop!" Tears run down my cheeks as I feel like I'm screaming for my own life rather than Jeff's. "Please, Tim!"

I pull one last time. My jacket slips off and I run. I need to take care of him the way he does me. I need to protect him.

"Tim!" I pull on his arm and beg again. "Please, stop. Tim, you're killing him! Please, please stop, Tim!"

He doesn't even acknowledge me. Jesse's running over to us to grab me again and I move to the other side and beg again. He swats me away and continues to tower over the hurt guy on the muddy ground.

"Tim!" I shrill as loud as I possibly can. "Look at me, Tim. Tim, please."

More tears fall and I feel like I've swallowed a torch. I can't yell anymore. I can't...

"Tim, please look at me." He stops this time and just stares at Jeff. "If you cared about me at all you'd hear me out. You'd listen to me! I'm your sister god damnit! Listen to me!"

He stays still. Jeff covers his face up and spits out a stream of blood. Jesse stands by and watches too. The dogs are gone now and everyone's waiting. Everyone's listening to my plea.

"Tim, look at me."

He turns, slowly. His brown eyes are soft. They have been this whole time. They're angry, but they're soft. Tim's eyes don't change. They never have and they never will.

I sniff and wipe some tears away. "I _love_ him. You think I'm just going to stand by and let someone do something like that to me? Tim, I'm smart. You taught me to be smart, remember? I love him and I know what I'm doing!"

He's thinking it through. He's stopped his hitting spree, and I want Jeff to get up and run. He needs to be safe.

"It's my life," I explain. "I'm smart enough to know people, damnit! He ain't your enemy here, Tim! I love him. I'm happy. What more do you want?"

He clears his throat. "He hit you?"

"NO!" I tell him one last time. "Jeff has _never_ hit me. He loves me, Tim. I love him. Trust me, Tim. Don't you trust me?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Ang."

"Then stop," I beg. "Do it for me, Tim. Stop this for me."

He reaches out and brushes a loose tear away. He takes my chin and gently examines my face again. "What happened to your face?"

I huff and put my hands on my hips. "I got in a fight with some girls, alright? There, ya happy now?"

"Who?"

"Just some girls, alright? What, you gonna go beat them up too?" I snap. "Come on, Tim, back off."

He smirks and looks to the side, not showing any sign of belief. "That why you got so mad at Ma? You were mad that she said all that shit and it ain't even true? Why don't you fucking just come home?"

"Tim, don't start."

He lets go and rolls his eyes. "Then get over yourself and get your ass home, Ang. If he didn't do anything, then why do you fucking care what Ma and Jason do?"

I comb through my tangled hair. "Why do _you_ care? You ain't home half the time to notice anyway!"

"Home enough to notice this guy is trouble." He points behind him at Jeff who still lays on the ground, Jesse watching over him to make sure he doesn't run.

"You don't know him."

He steps over to me, making his face inches from mine. "I know _you_. It's written all over your goddamn face."

_Lie._

I bite my tongue and clench my teeth. "Jeff, get up. Get up now!"

Tim's eyes don't leave mine. "Say it then. Lie to my fucking face, Angela!"

"I don't have to do anything you tell me to." I walk past him, bumping him as I do and take Jeff's hand and help him up to where he can stand again. "Stay outta my life, Tim. You seemed to be doing a pretty good job the last couple of years. Keep it up."

He laughs out. "Don't put this shit on me."

"Don't worry, Tim. I won't ask you for anything or put anything on you. I wouldn't want you to actually give a damn." I let Jeff lean on me. "We're leaving. This is done. I'm done."

He laughs at me. "Oh, alright then. Go then. Go home with him and let him beat the hell outta ya! Don't come running back to me when he almost fucking kills ya!"

I shake my head and start to walk home when something sparks in my head. "Tim, you're such a _prick_."

"Thought you were smart, Ang. Thought you'd grow up by now!" he yells after me.

"Fuck you, Tim."

He stands there, unphased. I turn back and keep walking. I'm helping Jeff. That's all I need to do. That's my job right now. Tim just doesn't understand this. He doesn't understand our love.

Tim Shepard doesn't love. He doesn't love _anyone_.

"Go ahead." His voice rings through the trees. "Turn your back Ang. Turn your back on all of us. We're your fucking family!"

"Like you give a damn."

* * *

><p>"Feel better?"<p>

He slowly nods what little of his face he can still feel. "I'm proud of you, love."

I smile and dab the rag on his swollen face. "I know."

"We're all we need," he whispers. "We'll take care of each other forever. Fuck everyone else. Fuck your brothers, fuck your parents, and fuck everyone. We love each other. We're going to forever, right?"

"Right."

"Marry me," he demands. "Marry me and we'll take care of each other for the rest of our lives."

I raise my eyebrows and giggle. "You really mean that?"

His lips peck mine. "I do, love. I want you to be my wife. Be my wife, Angela Shepard."

I can't help but smile. I can't help but giggle. "I love you, Jeff! I'll be the best damn wife in the world."

He's quiet for a few minutes. I walk over to the sink and ring the blood out of the rag. I could marry Jeff. I can see myself with him forever. I can see him with my son. I'll please him. I'll be better than I am now. I'll show Tim. I'll show them all.

"We'll be a family. One big happy family, love," he whispers. "I'll love you and take care of you forever."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Well there's Tim again. Hope you all enjoyed him.


	8. Spinning Round

**A/N: **Thanks to Taryn for beta reading. Some of you should remember what this, or more like what happens after.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own.

* * *

><p><strong>May 13, 1967<strong>

Curly called again. He has for a week now every day. He showed up one day...Jeff sent him home.

I haven't seen my son in a week. Jeff says I shouldn't go home to them people. He says they'll only bad mouth him and try and convince me to move back and leave him. He doesn't want me to be influenced by them anymore, even if that means I don't see Jake for a while. He promises we'll get him back.

It smells good outside. It smells like trees and grass and sun. It's been a while since I've been out to smell it.

"Ang, you got a light on ya?" A tall, skinny blond girl comes over to me. I can see her ribs through her tight tee-shirt and her eyes look like she hasn't slept in weeks. Her make-up is running down her cheeks and she looks and smells like death.

I dig around in my purse and pull Jeff's lighter out. "What...are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." She reaches out and takes the lighter and shakes as she tries to light the stick in-between her chapped lips. "Mike...Mike ran out the other night. You-you haven't seen him have you?"

"No. No Jane." I knew this. Jeff told me. Jeff helped him run out. I think he went to California.

She swears and combs through her hair. "Fucking shit. We got into it again. He thought I took the stash and he was pissed. He just kept screamin' at me and I didn't know what to do. He was makin' my head hurt."

"What'd he do?"

She shrugs and sighs. "I thought he was alright after a while. He fucked me hard enough." She blows out some smoke. "I couldn't walk straight the next day."

I didn't want to know that. I didn't want the picture that came with that. I didn't want to picture Mike's sweaty, fat, penis. I didn't want to picture her under him and their sweaty bodies sticking to each other.

"Fucking asshole. Man, he took all the fuckin' money too," she whines. "I ain't got a fucking dime to my name, Ang."

I rub my head and think of a way to sympathize with her. I wish she'd go away. I wish I could shove a sandwich in her mouth too, considering she looks like she hasn't eaten in a while. Her neck is the size of my finger and her bones are sticking out. She's getting smaller. Mike likes her smaller even though Mike weighs more than Jeff's car.

"Sorry." It's the only word I can think of even though I don't feel that way. I don't care.

She throws her hand down. "Damnit, I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"I gotta go, Jane."

She reaches out and holds me by the wrist. "Please, please don't. I need you. You're all I got left, Angela. Please don't leave me."

"Jane I-"

She grabs me by the waist and forces her lips on mine. Her tongue slides into me mouth and she gets a death grip on me. Her lips taste like chapstick, and I can taste her gum and the liquor she's just drank.

"Jane, stop!" I push her far away from me. She couldn't get farther.

She looks desperately at me. "Angela, I-I need you."

"Just get the fuck away from me, Jane." I back away from her and prepare to run. "Stay the fuck away from me."

She starts to take steps forward and I turn and run. I can still taste her on my lips and I want to take a hot shower. I want to rub her off of my skin and forget about the way her skin feels.

"Angela, please!" she shouts after me.

No.

* * *

><p>The apartment building we live in is on the edge of town. It's painted green, and I think there's a herd of babies living here. You can hear them every night just crying. Jeff says that most single mothers live here. They have nowhere else.<p>

"Goddamnit!" I can't find my key. I can't ever find my fucking key.

I snatch it out of my purse and pull the door open.

"Jeff, I'm home."

It's dark. He's probably not home or not up yet. He goes out a lot. It's nothing, he says. He's got stuff to do and people to see and more stuff to do, then he sleeps the rest of the day away.

He likes to sleep.

"Mmmh, Jeff, what's going on?" A girl's voice hums as the bed moves and a glass falls to the floor, breaking into hundreds of pieces.

I stand frozen as the bed makes a loud noise as the bodies on it move. The water that was once in the glass is running to my toes and I can feel my foot standing on a piece of glass that is stabbing me, but nothing hurts. Nothing is hurting right now.

The light switches on by the guy laying closest to it. His shirt isn't on him anymore and there's tiny beads of sweat running down his stomach. The person beside him rubs her eyes and fixes her bushy hair. The sheet falls down, showing her perfectly round size D breasts, her nipples staring at me.

"Jeff," I whisper. "Jeff...what's...what's going?"

He squints as his eyes adjust to the light. He doesn't jump, he doesn't stammer, he doesn't even move. "Angela?"

"Who's she?" the girls asks.

"Jeff." I take a step forward crushing the glass with my feet. "Who...who is _that_?"

He groans loudly and rubs his face all the way down to his neck. He takes in a deep breath and thinks of what to say. "This is Angela," he answers her first. "She lives here."

_She lives here. _

The girl covers her chest and starts to stammer. "H-hey. I'm Denise."

There's blood circling around in the water now. It's starting to pool up and there are specs of blood on the glasses that have already been stepped on. "Jeff, who is she?"

"Angela," he moans loudly.

"Who the fuck is she?" My voice wakes the baby next door and it begins to cry. The girl, Denise, clings tighter to the sheet like she's scared of me.

Jeff sighs and looks to the now frightened girl and puts a comforting hand around her. "This is Denise. She lives downstairs and likes to dance. Ain't that right?"

The glass stuck in my feet are starting to burn and I can feel the blood drain from me. "What is she doing in your bed?" I point at them. "Why the fuck is she on my side of the bed, and what the fuck is she doing here?"

He puts a hand up to calm me. "Angela, control yourself. We weren't-"

"You fucking bitch!" I begin to charge. "You fucking bitch, get out of my bed!"

She screams and falls off the bed once I get close. The lamp beside her falls to the ground and a whole new set of glass is broken. She takes the sheet down with her and hangs on to it like her life depends on it. Like she was going to be some fucking saint now and hide herself.

She begins to scramble toward the bathroom. "I-I didn't kn-know!"

"Bull shit!" I grab her foot and pull just like I've seen before. "He's mine, you cunt!"

She screams louder as my body falls on hers and her hair ends up in my hand and I pull. She tries to push me, but she's too busy shouting and pleading that she doesn't have the strength to pull me off of her.

We wrestle on the floor and the sheet gets tangled up with us. She's fully exposed now and she's still screaming and trying to fight when all she wants is for her knight to come over and safe her. _My_ fucking knight.

"Angela."

"You stay the fuck away from him!" I pin her down and send a fist toward her mouth and she starts to bleed. "Stay the fuck out of my house!"

"I didn't do anything!" She pushes me and my back lands on the floor. She's angry now and she's not going to lay still. "You're crazy!"

Spit starts to foam up in the corner of my mouth and I can feel my face turning a dark red. "I'm. Not. Crazy!"

I crawl towards her again and she pushes me back. She says it over and over again. She says Jeff told her to come up here. She says she's sorry; she didn't know about me. She didn't know Jeff had a girl.

"I'm going to kill you!"

Something pulls me from her. I'm no longer on top of her. My feet are touching the cheap, bug covered carpet and there's someone in front of me reaching a hand back. "Shut your fucking mouth."

Denise whimpers after the shot is made. I can hear her backing away and praying she is not next to feel the wrath of her lover.

"God!" I spit. I turn around and make eye contact with him. "Don't hit me!"

His nails dig into my shoulders, and I can feel the gush of wind as he swings my body and throws it into the nearby wall. Denise screams...again, and the night stand falls to the floor.

His breath runs down my neck and I can hear the fumes that are coming from his nose. "Don't you ever talk to me like that. Don't you ever tell me what to do. And don't you ever act like a goddamn fool. You're nothing but a whore. Learn how to act!"

I push him. I can't feel his breath anymore. All I can feel are the vibrations coming toward me and the gust of wind his fist makes as it comes into contact with my face followed by the same noise by the scared girl still on the floor.

"Don't hit me!" I swing back this time. I take my anger and twist it into one tiny fist and swing.

He stumbles back and I think about running. Cowards run. Tim taught me that.

The blood begins to pour from his nose. He breathes out of his mouth and the blood trickles into it and soaks his front and bottom teeth. He looks like a dog. A wolf.

"You fucking bitch."

The last thing I hear is a scream and a door slam shut. I'm expecting the hit and the one after that. I'm expecting the blood that is running from my face, and I'm expecting the feeling of my legs as they fall helplessly to the ground, taking my body into a small ball of fear.

"Don't." _Kick_. "You." _Kick_. "Ever." _Kick_. "Talk." _Kick_. "To me." _Kick_. "That way!"

His feet are scrimpy and ugly. His toenails are yellow and way too long. They make me angry to look at. They make me angry to have them touch me.

He doesn't expect the bite. He doesn't expect me to get up and knee him in the direct location of his balls. He hisses and holds his sore sack. His moans are louder than Denises' screams and, for a minute, I think he's down...but I'm not running.

I catch my breath and watch. I watch him suffer. He deserves to have them cut off. He deserves to be locked and held down while they are each slowly sawed off his good for nothing body.

"I told you to stop! I fucking _begged_ you!" I kick. He stumbles into the wall with a bang. "You never did!" I pick up the glass mug holding the condoms and throw towards his face, creating more glass. "You never even fucking cared!"

His face is bleeding. He has a chipped piece of blue glass sticking out of his skin just above his left eyebrow. His eyes change from different colors and the veins in his arms are getting ready to explode.

"I fucking hate you!" Tears are falling. I can taste them. "You're nothing but a worthless bastard!"

My feet lock to the ground as I shout more words I don't even know, and he comes for me. He takes me by the hair and I can feel the wall again, this time on my face.

There are more kicks and more yelling. He calls me a cunt, a bitch, a whore, every name and every blessed thing he can think of. I try and move but each time there's another kick. Something throwing me back down to the floor until they are through with me.

Then they stop. He's done.

Blood runs down my chin and I can't feel anything below my chest. I can't move and I can't taste anything but blood. The only thing I can see are two gray eyes staring me down. Two slimy, disgusting, gray eyes.

"Go to hell. Go to fucking hell, you bastard."

* * *

><p>A bird's singing outside. It smells like candles and fabric softener. The warm blankets over me feel like clouds and the beeping of the IV machine sounds like music. Sweet, soft, tender music.<p>

My eyes open and I see the walls around me. They're covered with cheap wallpaper and have flowers on them. There's a door in front of me and inside I can make out a toilet. A pretty, non-pink, toilet.

"He did it with a vase. Knocked you clean and out, " a deep voice speaks. "Least that's what the cops said."

My head throbs and it feels like it's holding up ten million pounds. When I move to the side another shooting pain hits and then become numb again and I can feel the tape holding my ribs intact.

"That girl called the cops," Tim spoke up. "You would still be layin' there in your own blood."

I rub my head and think about the girl. Guess she was worth something. "Okay." I swallow and twist my finger around the IV cord. I want to go home. "Where's Mom?"

"Went out to get somethin' to eat," he says calmly. "Been here all fuckin' day. You were too drugged out and asleep. Said she'd be back later once Jason goes to work."

I rub my head and feel a bandage going around it. I hiss at the pain and feel another headache coming on.

"Docs said it should heal." He picks up a box of cigarettes and pulls two out. "Said you can go once the swellin' goes back down." He leans over and hands the cigarette to me along with a lighter.

"Thanks," I mumble and place it in my mouth. He couldn't have read my mind any better.

"I'm sorry," I confess. "I-I shoulda listened to you. He...he's been doin' it for a while. You were right. Mom was right. Everyone was right."

He smirks. "Yeah, I always am."

I look to the side and blow out some smoke. Jeff's probably long gone. The cops are just going to be wasting their time finding him. Jeff knows cops. He knows how to run. There ain't nothing anyone can do now.

"Called Dan. Said she'd come. Probably on her way right now." He leans back and crosses his legs. "Your head still hurt?"

I carefully shake my head.

The door opens up and Curly stands in the entrance with two sodas in his hands. "They didn't have Pepsi, just Coke." He steps forward and hands Tim the soda.

"Thanks, Curl." He motions his head towards me.

"Oh, Ang!" Curly speaks once he fully turns around. "You feelin' alright?"

"Yeah."

He nods and looks down at his shoes. "I guess...I guess I should go and try an' call Ma."

The door closes faster than he arrived. Curly ain't so good with this junk. Never has.

"Tim," I call his attention.

He gazes up. "Yeah?"

I push the curls out of my face and take a deep breath. "I...Thank you." I swallow the tears back. "I'm sorry; I didn't...I should of listened to ya. I'm sorry, Tim. I'm real sorry I didn't listen."

Tears escape my eyes, and soon the dam breaks and the big ones come through. My body hurts. Everything hurts like hell. I don't want to run anymore. I don't want to scream and not do anything. I want to just go home.

"He hurt me a lot, Tim," I whisper. "I should have been smart and just left, but I didn't. Look at me now. Fuck, I'm in a fucking hospital bed with my head bashed in." I laugh out and shake my head. "I'm such a fuckin' idiot!"

Gently, he raises up from his chair and his boots make a loud noise as he begins to walk towards the bed.

I refuse to look as a hand strokes the top of my head and then falls to the back of my neck. "You ain't no idiot, Ang."

"Yeah," I sniffle. "I'm a fuckin' genius letting him do this to me."

His hand squeezes my neck. "Don't," he whispers. "Just don't." He bends over and kisses the top of my head, whispering, "I'll fix this. I gotcha, Ang. Ain't nothin' gonna happen no more."

I nod and let a few more tears slip. "I'm sorry, Tim."

"I know."


	9. Coming Down

**A/N: **The next chapter will be the last. This is rather short. Sorry. This was also not betaed.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the _Outsiders_. Maroon 5 owns _Harder to Breathe_.

* * *

><p><strong>June 3, 1967 <strong>

"I fuckin' told ya Tim, I don't know!"

"What do ya mean you don't know?" he yells forcefully. "He was your fuckin' boyfriend for months! How the hell do you not know where he went?"

I rub my head and breathe through my nose. He's been going on for an hour now. The cops talked to us today and said they still haven't gotten any leads and were questioning me on where I think he might have ran off to again. They don't believe me..._Tim_ doesn't fucking believe me.

Tim wants to know so he can kill him. He doesn't care about the cops or the system or anything. He wants to get Jeff back his way and his way only.

"I. Don't. Know."

He slams his fists down on the table. "Fucking shit, Ang!"

"What do you want me to do Tim?" I ask. "I can't fucking do anythin', alright? He's gone and that's all I care about. Let it die, Tim. Please just let it fucking die!"

He turns his back to me and rubs his face. He has a black eye on his right and his lip is slightly busted open. He says he got into a fight with some guys last week at the lot. He says it had to do with gang stuff and it's none of my business.

"He really did a number on ya, huh?"

He sighs and turns back around. "Yeah, Freedman really knows how to throw a punch."

He opens the fridge and grabs the milk out. He opens the cabinet door and takes out the big glass mug Ma used to use when she was hooked on coffee.

"Thought you said Grierson threw the punch."

He stops filling the glass and pauses everything for a minute. "I don't fuckin' know, Ang. It could have been anyone. It was a long night and I was drunk. Didn't I tell ya not to worry 'bout it?"

He goes back to filling the glass and seals the jug back up once he finishes. "I just think someone ought to know who punched them in the face. It's not that hard to remember something as important as that."

"Fuck, Angela!" He slams the glass down and milk spills. "Didn't I tell ya to shut the fuck up?"

I spring up. "What the hell did ya do, Tim? Don't lie to me anymore either. I know you're fuckin' lying!"

He begins to walk away, ignoring everything.

I follow. "Don't walk away from me! Tim, what did you do?"

He sits down on the sofa and flips on the light sitting next to him and starts to watch the game playing on the television.

"Tim, answer me!"

"I didn't do anything, Ang," he says smoothly. "Don't worry about it."

I clinch my hair in my hand in annoyance and huff. "Tim, Jeff is dangerous. I know, alright? Stay away from him, please. You don't know what he's stupid enough to do. He ain't like you and your gang. He's fucking _dangerous, _Tim!"

"Just shut-up, alright?" he half yells. "I got it under control. Ain't nothin' happened and ain't nothin' going to happen, got it?"

He turns his attention back to the people moving around on the static screen and drinks his milk and props his legs up. He's free minded and doesn't have a care in the world. He doesn't see what I see. He never has.

"Just please, Tim. Don't do anythin' that will come back to hurt us. Just let it die, please."

He nods nonchalantly and takes another sip. "Don't worry, Ang. It's over."

* * *

><p>"How's Dal?" I ask her. "Are you two still done for?"<p>

She shrugs and lights the cigarette in her mouth. "I dunno anymore. I suppose we are, yeah. I just can't stand the thought of having to see him at this stupid thing."

I take a drag and lean back on the car. "You'll live. It's Winston. He probably won't even say anythin'."

She twirls her brown hair around her finger and it twists up to her freshly painted pink nails. She sighs and looks out into the sunset and watches the birds fly by. "Guess you're right. He's Dal. He won't even say anythin'. He never does."

I reposition myself on the hood and take a sip of beer. "You'll be alright. Hell, we can be single together again. Run around chasin' boys at the drive-in. Late nights at Buck's. It'll be like old times."

She smiles and lets out a small laugh. "We had some good times together then, huh?"

I nod. We used to do this...a lot. We'd sit and I'd drink, she'd smoke, and we'd talk about boys. We'd talk about going across the country and to the beach and just sitting with our feet in the water. We've never been. We'd plan things and we'd just laugh.

We used to do a lot of things.

"You think about Jeff?" she asks.

I take another gulp. "What about him?"

"I don't know." She shrugs. "Like where he is, if the cops will ever find him."

I throw a French fry down on the ground to the scrawny bird hopping toward the car. He jumps at the opportunity and picks it up and runs. "Nah, that's the cop's job to worry about. They won't find him. He knows how to hide."

"You know where he'd hide at?"

I chuckle at the repetition of the question. "No. I don't know where he went." I pick up the beer glass and drink. "He's not gone though. I know it."

"What do you mean he's not gone?" She turns her head. "I thought you thought he'd jumped states or something. That's what the cops think and everyone else. Why would he still be here anyway?"

"Call it a hunch."

"What are you talking about?"

I fold my hands together and stare at the hangnail growing on my middle finger. "I've seen Jeff."

"You've _seen_ him?" Her tone makes me feel dumber than the statement did.

I nod my head and ignore her doubts. "I think so anyway. Everywhere I look... Listen I know it sounds fucking stupid, but I swear something's just up. I know I'm probably seein' things or somethin' but it just _feels_ like he's there."

She doesn't say anything for a while. She's turned her focus on Jake who's playing in the grass with some blocks. I don't care if she believes me. I don't even care if she thinks I'm an idiot. Her opinion won't change anything. No one's will.

"You shouldn't worry so much," she comments and slides down onto the grass beside Jake.

"I'm not worried."

"Yes you are." She looks up.

"No I'm not."

"Yeah, you are." She chuckles and tosses a block up in the air. "I get it. You've...you've been through a tough time and-"

I stand up. "Shut the fuckup Danni. Don't treat me like a fuckin' idiot."

"No," she says quickly. "Just sit down and listen to me for a freakin' minute, will ya?"

I roll my eyes and ease back down onto the hood of the car. Jake's on the ground laughing and giggling at her like she's the best thing since my boobs. He doesn't look at me like that too much anymore.

"I understand what you're goin' through," she says.

I huff and shake my head. She has no idea. "Danni, don't go tellin' me Dallas is like Jeff. He's _never_ hit you. Dally's like fucking God compared to Jeff and you know it. So just shut the hell up about knowin' what I'm fucking goin' through."

She gets a mad expression on her face. She knows I'm right. She's just mad I am. "I'm not saying that Ang."

"Then what _are_ you sayin' Danni?"

She jerks her hand through her hair and slaps it down on the floor. "I'm just worried about you! I care about you Ang, alright? You know that. You're my best friend and you know that I'd do _anything_ for you."

_Yes. _

"You just got to _chill out,_" she says. "Tim's lookin' out for you and so is Curly. With them you got the whole town doing it too. Not to mention the police department and what they're-"

"They're not doing crap," I complain.

"What I'm saying is, don't worry about Jeff." She pauses for a minute. "I know he scares you. He scares me. To be honest I even think he scares Tim."

_Yeah, right. _

She comes over and the hood of the car makes an odd noise as she gets comfortable. Her arm moves around my shoulder and she smells like peaches. She always smells like some fucking fruit.

"It's going to be okay," she sooths. "Jeff's not going to hurt you anymore. He's _gone_. If he comes back Tim'll kick his ass all the way to Canada."

I sneer.

"We're looking out for you." She squeezes me tighter. "You really scared the shit out of me for months though."

I wrap my arms around hers and sigh. "Yeah. Did a lot of people I guess."

Jake goos and throws a block across the lot. He's going to be a baseball player or football. Tim's already predicted it. He thinks he'll go for football. Curly wants him to play baseball. He's going to teach him.

He smiles and starts chewing on one of the blocks. He's beautiful. He's going to grow up good. I'm going to raise him right. I'm going to do all the things my mother didn't do. I'll be the mother I always wanted. I'm going to get him out of here.

And I'll find him a father. I'll hunt the world until I find someone...someone who helped make him.

"He needs you, Ang," she whispers. "You need him too."

"Yeah."

She breathes out and gets up to get her things, kissing Jake before coming over to me. She kneels in front of me and her eyes stare into mine. "I love you okay? Everything's going to get better. I promise."

I grin and believe her words. I believe Danni. I believe everything. "Yeah, Dan. Thanks for...I don't know...bein' your stupid self."

She sneers. "Anytime." Her shoes click as she walks across the lot and down the street.

I turn back to the baby on the grass and embrace his innocence. He's going to be alright. He's going to be the one that makes it. He's going to become something great and I'm going to get him there.

Everything's going to get better.

* * *

><p>The phone's ringing loud. Ma's passed out upstairs along with Jason, and of course, Tim and Curly are nowhere to be seen. Least things are going back to the way they were. Shitty or not.<p>

I rush over and yank the phone off the hook before another ring that could potentially wake up the baby who took an hour to fall asleep.

"Hello?"

There's an odd silence for just a minute. Just five seconds before I get fed up and throw the phone back. Just one minute it takes for the voice on the other end to speak those two words again no one thought I'd hear again.

"Hello, love."

My hands begin to shake. The phone seems to be slipping as the sweat starts to build up on my palms. I have to hang up. I have to put the phone down and run and get Tim or Mom or Jason or Curly. I have to back away.

"Don't think about hanging up on me now dear. That won't be the wisest thing to do."

I take a breath and swallow the lump that's rising. "What do you want?"

"No need to be harsh, love," he says slowly. "What, you mad at me or somthin'?"

"What do you want Jeff?" I repeat.

I have to go and get someone now. Someone has to be around.

"You want me to get the point I see." He begins to laugh. "Well love I can tell you're a smart cookie. Too smart really. That's what gets you into trouble right there."

"Jeff-"

"You were right," he coos. "You ain't been seeing things. That's why you're smart, love. You're _so_ smart. Danni and Tim just don't know how much."

"How'd you- I'll call the cops Jeff!" I warn him. "I'll fucking do it."

He cackles on the other end. "That wouldn't be wise either. See I have plans. I stick to my word too. You know that."

"I fucking will, Jeff!" I shout into the phone.

"Forever, remember, doll face?" His words are dragged out and slowed. "We promised each other."

"Jeff-"

"Watch yourself, Angela Shepard," he speaks coldly. There's no emotion. There's evil in his voice. Each word he spews is coated with the thickness of his will to follow through. "The end is near. I'm coming for you, love. I'm coming for _you._"

_And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams. Is there anyone out there 'cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe. _


	10. Hold On

**A/N: **I'm guessing the ending is going to be no surprise. I cut some yelling parts out though. I didn't wanna repeat all that.

This song, in my opinion, sums up everything and is totally perfect. If you wanna listen please do, but if you would anyway, just read the lyrics.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the _Outsiders_ nor the song _Dance with the Devil_ by Breaking Benjamin.

* * *

><p><strong>June 17, 1967 <strong>

_Here I stand, helpless and left for dead. Close your eyes, so many days go by. Easy to find what's wrong, harder to find what's right._

It's so heavy. So _fucking_ heavy.

How can someone carry this around? How can someone use it? It melts in my own hands. It makes the sweat run off my forehead and my heart stop. No one can work this thing the right way. Just...no.

I slip it under a few clothes so it's unseen. This is the important part. That, I was taught.

I crawl back over to the bed where Jake's snoring. I wrap my arms around his tiny body and pull him into my chest to where he just lies there and I shield him with my arms letting him know that I'm here and I'm not leaving. This is all for him.

For him.

"Ang." Tim knocks on my door. "We're gettin' ready to leave."

"Alright," I say. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Still mad at me?"

I take in a breath of air, and gently loosen my grip. "What'd you fucking do?"

He smirks. "Gotta be more specific that that darlin'."

I stare up. "Tim I know you did something. I know you and...Jeff, meet up after I was in the hospital. Don't fucking lie to me either this time."

He gets a sly look on his face and leans against the door frame. "'Fraid I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout sweetheart. Ain't seen Jeff since-"

"Cut the shit."

"What'd you say?" he asks. "You don't know shit Angela. Come on let's-"

"Shut the fuck up." I stand, jolting the bed. "Don't treat me like I'm a clueless dumbass. I know what's going on here Tim. I know what you're doing here and it's _my_ mess. My fucking mess so tell me what the fuck you're doing!"

Jake wakes up. He's crying and screaming.

Tim huffs and cusses as he goes to pick him up, complaining about how loud I am and how I'm overreacting. I don't know when or how to shut-up.

"What'd you do to him?" I shout.

His face is red. He bounces Jake on his hip knowing he won't do anything as long as he's in his arms. "Why do you care? Just shut the fuck up this doesn't-"

"It concerns me!" I finish for him. "This is _my_ battle. Let _me_ fight it!"

"NO!"

"I fucking begged you Tim! Why didn't you listen to me?"

"I didn't do anything!"

My eyes start to water. I shouldn't be fighting this. I should be finding Jeff. I should be fighting with him, letting him know how I feel and take a fucking bullet to his head. I shouldn't have my bag packed right behind me.

Cowards run.

"God, cut the fucking water works will ya?"

I swipe them away quickly. "I'm not crying, dumbass. I just want you to leave it the hell alone. Leave_ me_ alone!"

He tries to calm Jake down when he's really calming himself. "You fucking did this." He points a finger. "I'm just cleaning it up."

"And who asked you to?"

He cusses again under his breath. He wants to hit me. If he wasn't holding that damn baby he would. He'd shut me up like Jeff did. He's been doing it for years. How is Jeff any different than him? Because I'm his sister?

"We gotta go," he speaks through gritted teeth. "Get your shit and get in the car."

He leaves, taking my child in his arms and running.

I take a good long look at the big brown bag sitting behind my bed. Cowards run. They always do.

_I believe in you, I can show you that I can see right through all your empty lies. I won't stay long, in this world so wrong._

* * *

><p>The preacher needs to shave. Maybe bathe too. What a fucking idiot he must be. Standing up there like a dumbass going on and on about love when his whore of a wife over there has fucked half the town...twice.<p>

We're all liars though aren't we? _I love you - _most told lie in America. We say it all the time. Not that hard. Three words.

It's a mask we put on to hide the truth just screaming for air. We learn at a young age to silence that though. We tighten the mask and speak. We let the truth die.

We're all liars getting ready to burn in hell. We lie about how we feel, about each other, even to ourselves. We tell ourselves lies to cover up the truth; we tell people we love pure bull shit to save a fight. To save the whole freaking relationship. We think it's for the best.

We're just going to burn in the end.

We're all liars. We're all human. It's our nature.

"You're such a dick, you know that?" I ask him, shoving him in the back. "Everyone sees it; it's just that they're too damn scared to say it to your face! Even Curly's said it before but he's too much of a baby to tell you where to go!"

Everyone's inside, laughing it up and cheating on their diets because it's a wedding. They're here to have fun. They're going to drink until they fall dead.

They're going to live it up tonight. No cares.

"Oh is that right?" he yells, turning around. "Everyone thinks I'm a dick huh? What about you? You've seen more guys' dicks than Sylvia has! You don't think people talk about how much of a whore you are? Just leave me alone, alright?"

"You think I care what some losers think about me?" I scream. "I had a kid when I was sixteen, Tim. I think people already know"

"Yeah, you had a fucking kid with God knows who!" He waves a finger in my face. "There's something to brag about."

"I know who the father is, you ass!" My own screams ring my ears. "Who are you to talk anyway? I hear stuff too, Tim. You think I don't know what you do at Buck's? You ain't such a saint yourself."

He sneers at me. "Least I ain't got a kid."

I take a lung. He stops me and clenches my wrists together. He raises one hand but remembers and pulls it back down. His eyes widening and everything around him has stopped and he's just thinking about it, running it through his mind again and taking one good strong look at me.

He fucking remembers.

I jerk. "Fuck you."

He shakes me in attempt to bring me back down. He's not going be who he should be right now. We both know that. "What you gonna do kid? Do it! Hit me!"

I pull out of his grasp and rub my wrists where he squeezed. "Don't you dare say anything about my baby."

He shakes his head. "'Cause you're such a great mom, right? You bring around some fucking rat you meet while getting high and introduce him to your kid. You come home drunk as fuck and high off your horse, and that's if you even come home at all! That's what I call a good mother!"

"You shut your damn mouth!" Spit forms in the corners of my mouth. "I'm a good mother!"

"Right."

I take in a breath of air. My throat hurts from screaming and my ears are ringing. This shouldn't be happening. I have more things to worry about. He shouldn't be picking this with me. He should be letting me handle this. _Me_.

"Where's the kid anyway?" he grumbles.

I rub my head. "Danni's got him."

"Danni?

I shake my head. "Yes Tim. The Danni who you _used_ to stick your penis in her mouth. That'd be her."

"I didn't use no one," he snaps. "In fact, your little friend came running to _me_ not too long ago."

"What?"

_Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight. Don't you dare look at him in the eye, as we dance with the devil tonight._

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you," I start in, drawing her attention back to me. "How could you do that?"<p>

She turns back around and stares, worry all over her face. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play the dumb act with me," I bark, wagging a finger in her face. "How could you do that to him again? He's my brother Danni! Did you even plan to tell me about it or were you just going to let it go like it was nothing?"

People are starting to look at us, making Danni even more nervous. I don't care how many people cop stares at us. I don't care what they think about us. I just don't care.

She rolls her eyes and grabs my arm, squeezing it tightly as she leads me into a more private place. Danni doesn't like people to judge her. She doesn't like stares and whispers of losers talking about her.

Danni needs to grow up.

"Angela, it wasn't a big deal. I-"

"Not a big deal?" Jake begins to whimper as my voice gets louder. "You can just do that and it not be a big deal? I thought you were done doing that."

She huffs and grabs the baby from me. "I am done with it. If you would just let me talk, I could have told you that."

I roll my eyes and folded my arms over my chest.

I've heard this story before. She's retold his story countless times. It wasn't what I thought. She doesn't care about Tim. It was nothing. All the same words I've heard since that night. That night she drove that knife in. She didn't care. She still doesn't.

"It was one time. I don't even know why I did it but I did. Call me crazy, but I made a mistake. Can you get off my case now?"

I take in a breath of air and turn my attention elsewhere. She deserves more, but she isn't who I'm mad at. "Tim is just pissing me off. I can't even stand to be near him anymore."

She sighs. I know she's heard this; she's going to hear it again. Maybe this time she'll understand. She just needs to understand this time.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped like that," she apologizes. "What's going on this time, besides the fact that he told you what we did?"

I spin back around and look at her. "He treats me like shit, Danni!"

She inwardly sighs.

I ignore her and continue my rant. "Ever since I had the kid, he treats me like the family whore. Like I'm a failure or a disgrace or something. I can't take it anymore. I need out."

"Ang, he loves ya all right, it's just-"

"No!" I try to hold back the tears that are ready to fall. "He hates me, Danni. You know it as well as I do. He won't even look at me anymore."

She sighs again and continues to look at the baby. "Ang, I just think-"

"Just watch him," I say as I hand her the dipper bag. "I have to…I got to do somethin', okay?"

I run my hand through my hair and run. I run one last time. I need out. I need everything to be fixed. I need people to hear me. I need someone just to listen.

"Ang!"

I keep walking

"Angela, wait!"

This is my battle. My problem to fix and I'll do it on my own.

_Trembling, crawling across my skin. Feeling your cold dead eyes, stealing the life of mine. _

* * *

><p>It's cold. My heart won't stop. My hands are sweating and I think my bones are shaking. This has to stop. This day needs to be over already. This party needs to be fucking over. I need out of here.<p>

I need a fucking beer.

"Angela."

"What?"

"You seen Tim?" He takes a drag from his stick. "He was running around here a minute ago. Lost him."

I take the smoking stick from his mouth and take a long drag of my own, sighing once I'm done. "He's pissed at me. No telling where he ran off to."

"He just-"

I put a hand up. "Don't make excuses for him." I fold my arms over my chest. "Once this day is over it won't matter much anyway."

"Why?"

I don't answer for a while. Curly's just a lap dog. He's going to tell Tim either way. He always does. "I'm getting my shit and getting out."

His eyes pop open. "Why? Where? God fuck Ang-"

"I can't take it anymore. I can't take Tulsa." I steal his stick again and finish it off. "I need a fresh start somewhere. Figure California? Go to the beach maybe. Always wanted to see the ocean."

His mouth is slightly open. "Bullshit."

"Whatever Curly. I'm leaving. Like it or not, today is the last day you'll see me so you better take a good long look and say goodbye."

I hand his cigarette back and walk away.

Today is the last day. The last day I'm putting up with this trashy hole in the wall town. I'm getting out. I'm running this time. It's been too long I haven't.

I'm running until I can't anymore.

* * *

><p>"I figured you'd be in here."<p>

He turns around, the whisky bottle he's holding slightly spilling. "What?"

I take a few small steps forward. "That all I get? Wow. _Shocker_."

He rolls his eyes and turns back around, continuing to drink. "Get out of here Ang. Ain't in the mood to deal with your shit."

"Just came to say good bye." I walk forward. "Figured I'd tell you before I head off. Maybe thank you? I don't know, for all the shit we've been through. Great times, huh?"

His head rotates over his shoulder, his face disgusted. "Fuck off."

"_Make me_."

* * *

><p>"I hate you! I fucking hate you Tim. You don't understand. You have never fucking understood anything about me! I hate you!"<p>

"_You_ don't get anything Angela. You just don't."

My throat hurts. He won't stop yelling. He just won't. I need to run now. I need to get out and never look back. I need to leave this town. I need shut-up now and run.

I don't need him. I don't need anyone.

I just need to go.

There's a loud bang as the door flew open, closing behind the figure that strolls across the room toward us. The figure of someone who's going to keep their promise. The person who was going to end this fight for me. The person who's going to free me.

He walks out of the shadow revealing a haunting smile on his face, a smile I've seen many times.

"Je-Jeff?"

A sly smile runs across his face. "Hello there, doll face. Miss me?"

_I believe in you, I can show you that I can see right through all your empty lies. I won't last long, in this world so wrong._

* * *

><p>They're crying. My mother is shoving her way through the room as the doctors try to bring me back.<p>

Black tears run down her face as she shouts for me.

The doctor looks to his watch and speaks to the nurse beside him. Curly's holding her back. She's reaching out to my body and screaming my name as the nurse places the sheet over my blue, bloody, face.

Curly's crying. He's not holding it back either. This is the first time I've seen him cry in years. He's not just crying either. He's balling. He's balling his eyes out and holding our mother back from me.

Tim's sitting in a chair with his hands on his face. He's crying, though he doesn't want anyone to see him. He's in pain. Physically, but more emotionally that anything.

He feels bad for the things he's said and he knows he can't take any of them back. He's thinking of our childhood. The childhood of the children he'd blocked out long ago.

He's apologizing to me over and over again.

I try and scream back but he doesn't move. He's just sitting there, letting out small whimpers.

I want to hug my mother and tell her I'm sorry. I want to tell her I'm sorry for not understanding what she's been through her whole life. I want to tell her I know why she's the way she is. I want to hug her and tell her I'm sorry for what her father did to her and apologize for the deeds _my_ father did to her.

Curly leans his head against the wall and lets out more cries. No one rushes to him to comfort him.

He's special, even though Tim's told him different his whole life. I need to tell him to make something of himself one day for me. I want him to be Curly Shepard. Curly...not Tim.

Tim's still crying quietly. He's shouting in his head so many words.

I love him.

He's been more of a father to me than anyone else. He's taken care of me and cared more about me than anyone.

This isn't his fault.

I want to tell him to be a father figure in my son's life, and look after him. I know he can do it. He's been doing it for me my whole life.

Jake needs him. Jake needs a parent in his life.

I don't feel the regret of the things I've done. I don't feel mad at the man who did this to me. I don't feel the pain from the men that have touched me wrong without my consent.

I just don't feel.

Jeff's body lies in the next room, cold and blue just like mine. There's a hole on the back of his head and blood coats his slimy dirty hair. He's lifeless. He's gone.

Tim stepped up. He made a promise too to Jeff and like Jeff, he carried it out.

That's the sweet part of this.

I can't apologize for the shit I've done. I can't grab Tim by the fucking throat and tell him to grow some fucking balls and suck it up because he's just being stupid.

He knows me.

I can't tell him he's a fucking idiot for letting me get to him - letting himself believe me.

What's done is done.

So this is the part where I say I'm sorry. I made a mistake, I've sinned. Don't do what I did. Be smart, use your head.

I ain't perfect. I ain't a fucking angel. The shit I've done is still there and there isn't an eraser big enough to get rid of them. You could say that this same shit is what did this to me. Got me to this point of where I'm at.

My life. My mistakes.

Sorry I'm not perfect. Sorry I'm not the angel you wanted me to be, but here I stand. I'm saying I screwed up. I'm saying I didn't use my head. I'm saying I didn't listen.

And I wanna thank you. Thank you for everything. Thanks for making me. Thanks for everything.

This game...this fucking game is finally over.

I win, Jeff. I fucking win this. Me, Jeff.

_Me._

The beast is dead. Long live the fucking king you son-of-a-bitch.

Long live the king.

_Hold on. Hold on._  
><em>Hold on. Hold on.<em>  
><em>Goodbye.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hope you all enjoyed. Thank you all so much again for reviews and your time you spent reading. Really means a lot and I love and appreciate you all.

_Light up the Fire_, will be posted very soon for those of you who want to know.

Again, hope you all enjoyed and thanks so very much! :)


End file.
